


Sway

by onthepitch



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 84,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6374344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onthepitch/pseuds/onthepitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Ashlyn Harris ever wanted was a bit of control in her life but, everywhere she turns, another obstacle ends up in her way. With the help of the most important people in her life, she learns that she can rise above and not just be the product of her circumstances. </p><p>Inspired by Ashlyn’s Purpose to Play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tides

The water always had a calming effect on her. 

The ocean, a wide expanse of the unknown, was unforgiving. This, she knew. The currents and tides were controlled by an otherworldly orb in the heavens, the fathomless depths contained every manner of creatures, and the waves often took boats…and people…as their captives. 

She lay back on her board, letting it drift back and forth with the motion of the rippling water. Out past the breakers, she could just lay there for hours, letting the sea take her where it desired. The water could pull her from the shore without her consent, sink her into its depths, trap her in a swirl of itself, but for some reason, those thoughts didn’t scare her. With her board, she could control the wild ocean, even for a second. She could stand there in control of the chaos around her. 

There was another side to the ocean — one that brought new life. It gave home and shelter to countless species of marine life. It provided food for so many others. It gifted Ashlyn new energy. 

She squinted up at the bright morning sun, wrinkling her nose at its rays. Letting her feet drop into the cool water, she spun around and began to paddle back towards the shore. There before her, she could see a nice wave just starting to grow. She aligned herself just right, paddling quickly, and popped up in time to ride it back in to the sandy beach. 

Control. 

Everywhere else, she was less lucky. People spun around her in a sort of distorted insanity she could barely figure out on a good day. On a bad day…well, she had better be at the beach, amongst the waves, breathing in the salty air and becoming one with the water. 

The sound of sandy feet padding down the worn wood of the back hallway was drowned out by arguing voices. She cringed at the sound and scurried to the small bathroom on the hall, shucking off her bathing suit as she closed the door. When she was done with her shower, towel-clad she scuttled across the hall and into her bedroom.

It was strange to see all the bags and boxes, there in the middle of the floor. She couldn’t tell if things looked more organized, stacked up and put away as they were, or more chaotic than before. Her closet and dresser both looked a little bare. The wetsuits and other surfing gear seemed lonely already in their usual corner. 

Just one more day, and she would be leaving the Space Coast, her home, for North Carolina — specifically, UNC Chapel Hill. She wondered vaguely if this was the right choice, but the sound of enraged voices coming from the kitchen solidified her decision. There was no way she could stay here any longer. 

Control. She would take charge of her future finally, finally and there would be nothing left of Satellite Beach to hold her back. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Ashlyn kept weaving her way through the other guests, ignoring Whitney’s protests. They’d shown up late enough for the grand majority of the people there to be on their merry way to being hammered. Ashlyn grinned, the too-loud thump of the bass invigorating her like cold water. 

“We have to study.” 

“Maybe you do,” Ashlyn quipped. She could hear Whitney’s groan of frustration. 

“You can’t just do this every time —”

“What, party?” Ash rounded on her, making Whitney jump slightly. But she didn’t back away. “Because that’s what I do, Whit. That’s what everyone does. It’s okay.” 

“No,” Whitney said sharply. “Because I know what you’re doing. You’re upset and so you’re going to get blackout drunk, make out with a few girls, and spend the next couple days nursing your regret before you jump right back in and do it all over again.” 

Ashlyn paused, but couldn’t bring herself to give in. “So what?” 

“So what? Ash, it’s like you’re addicted to causing yourself even more pain.” 

Ashlyn tensed. She knew Whitney was probably bringing up her knee, but she could hardly hear the party, let alone Whitney, through the pounding in her ears, a dull rush and thud. 

She’d been at UNC for the past couple years, but things hadn’t exactly worked out as she had planned, looking at the school from the outside. First one knee had gone, before her first season even started. Physical therapy had been a bitch, but she was determined to come back and play her first season of college soccer. Then the second knee had gone. 

Why? Sometimes it was difficult to even comprehend that it had happened again. And she had been such a healthy kid. Now, she was half-crippled and struggling to figure out why she was still even at school. It was all pointless if she couldn’t play. Suddenly her reprieve from the world, her escape, turned into just another obstacle. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Ashlyn bit her lip and thought, not really seeing Whitney any more. She was long gone already. 

“You know what, Whit. Let me get drunk. You worry about you,” she said. It was like she was floating towards the kitchen, where frat boys and hot girls sloshed through tubs of half-melted ice for a cheap beer or handed out red solo cups of jungle juice and whatever strange concoctions they managed to think of. A haze dulled her hearing and vision, though she hadn’t touched a drink yet. 

“Harris!” a boy called out to her, his sweating beer raised in greeting. Ashlyn half-saw him, bumped her fist to his, and accepted the drink he held out to her, determined beyond anything else that she wouldn’t remember this night. 

And she didn’t. 

Whitney was less than impressed, to say the least and she made her displeasure known the next morning, once Ashlyn had crawled out of her cocoon of covers, her entire body throbbing, to get some water from the little kitchenette. Whitney was already sitting in there with a cup of coffee and a look that would’ve terrified Ashlyn had she not been preoccupied with the act of walking. Her knee hurt like a bitch. 

“Can we not do this, Whit?” Ashlyn sighed. She reached up to snag an old plastic cup and filled it to the brim with lukewarm water. She took long gulps that burned her throat with the strain. 

“No. No, you know what? I won’t back away from it this time, Ashlyn. You’re being destructive to yourself and you need to stop.” 

“I just had a bad day. I wanted to relax, that’s all.” 

“Once or twice, okay. But this is becoming a problem, Ash. You’re…well, you’re not the same as you were when we met.” 

Ashlyn stared at her a long time, simply blinking. She could feel her heart beating hard against her ribcage. In the back of her head, the angry voices of her parents echoed shrilly. She swallowed again and decided she should have some more water. 

“Ash, I know you don’t want to have this talk, but I care about you and…Look, I don’t want to see you throw everything away. You’re a good keeper. Just wait until your knee gets better and you’ll see.” 

The season was already half-way through, though, and Ashlyn was becoming discouraged with her progress in physical therapy. The first ACL had been one thing, but the second seemed to pain her in a different way. With every twinge, she could feel time slipping past her and, try as she might, she could not catch any of it in her grasping fingers. 

“Come on, Harris, keep up!” 

“Push it, Harris!” 

Ashlyn bit her lip to hide her grimace as she tried her best to work past the pain. It was time for fitness testing again and her body seemed to be falling to pieces with every sprint, every lift, every jump. It wasn’t just her knee, though that was the worst of it, but her lungs, her abs, the muscles in her legs and arms and back. She hurt everywhere. She couldn’t keep up. 

With the final whistle that signaled that the last test of the day was over, Ashlyn collapsed on her chest, her face buried in the cold grass. She shut her eyes against the burning tears that threatened to show themselves. She didn’t want to cry. She hated it, but she always seemed to do it anyway. It was just another betrayal of her body. 

Really, she hadn’t stopped hurting. This year had been one pain after the other, melding into a continuous stream of Tylenol, cheap booze, and heat cream — not in that order. 

She only looked up when she felt a soft tapping on her shoulder. A body knelt beside her quietly, just sitting there in muddy cleats, socks streaked green and brown. Get on up, she said with her touch and Ashlyn, too tired and too sad to shake her off, obeyed. 

She was quiet in the locker room and, to her surprise and relief, the other girls avoided her. She was quiet on their walk out to the parking lot, and she was quiet as the doors of Whit’s car thudded shut behind them. They just sat there, the keys in Whit’s hands, not making any move towards the ignition, Ashlyn’s breathing sounding too loud in her ears. 

Despite the scalding hot shower she’d just taken, her muscles were still screaming at her, enraged at how they’d just been treated. Ashlyn could feel the tears again, beginning to edge out of her eyes. It only made her more angry. She wanted to hit something, but she was too tired to do much of anything. Whit’s dash felt the brunt of her anger, but she couldn’t do any real damage. 

“My body just won’t fucking work!”

“I know, I know. Sometimes it seems like you’re your own worst enemy, but you don’t have to be.” 

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Whit,” Ashlyn continued. “I’ve tried and tried and I just can’t do it. It all hurts so bad.”

In the driver’s seat, Whit nodded seriously. 

“What are you going to do?” Ashlyn looked at her for a long, silent moment. 

“I think I’m done, Whit,” she said finally. “I don’t think I’ll ever get better.” Whit nodded seriously again, and Ashlyn couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. 

“What hurts most?” she asked after some time. Ashlyn furrowed her brows at her. “I mean, is it your knee? Is it because you’re out of shape?” Whitney paused, taking a deep breath before quietly adding, “Or is the pain emotional?” 

Ashlyn’s first instinct was to protest loudly. No, it’s my fucking knee — the one whose ACL I just tore. But she didn’t know that that was strictly true. She’d had surgery ages ago. PT was grueling, but no more so than usual. She knew she was out of shape — her body told her so very loudly. But that wasn’t really it. 

“I…This was supposed to be how I got out,” Ashlyn said quietly. “This was supposed to be easy.” 

“Nothing ever is,” Whitney replied. “Look, Ashlyn, you’re only going to get out of your body as much as you put in. If you’re not taking care of yourself, you’re never going to get the results you want. And I don’t just mean working out and eating well. You’ve got to take care of how you’re feeling. You have to make sure your head is in the right place.” 

“I can’t give my body anything else,” Ashlyn protested quickly. Whit gave her a look and she shied away again. It was the worst, to be caught in the lie. She normally could convince herself it was true

“You really think so?” 

Ashlyn had to force herself not to give another flip answer. She had been so confident that going to UNC would be her true escape, her golden path leading to a life entirely different from the pain of her childhood. Instead, she was greeted with more and more hurt. And then, looming in the distance, there was the threat of failure. What if this was all going to come to nothing? What if she had to go back? It was something she was reminded of every day she spent with the athletic trainer, every day she spent watching from the sidelines or doing stretches to strengthen her shitty knees. 

“It hurts,” she repeated meekly, unsure what exactly she was referring to. “I just…I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much.” She wiped aggressively at her eyes, rubbing the wetness on her shirt. 

She couldn’t go back. There was nothing for her there except a mess of family she wished didn’t share her blood and the ghosts of fights and drunken rages and drug-induced benders. It was a place that held memories of difficult choices, the horrors of school, days spent blowing away her education so thoroughly she almost didn’t graduate. What would become of her if she was left there to become mirrors of her parents? Fucked up, sad, working to scrape by, eaten away by depression, blood pumped through with alcohol just to be able to stand the day. 

“Ashlyn, look at me.” She did. “Ashlyn, you’re being faced with two paths. You can go one way, or the other. Now, I’m going to push you in one direction, but you have to make the choice in the end, okay? You need to figure out what’s best for you. And I don’t want you to do this for the wrong reasons. Your circumstances may be out of your hands, but what you choose to do with them isn’t.” 

Ashlyn nodded and wiped at her eyes again. 

“You may not believe in you right now, but I do, Ashlyn Harris,” she continued. “I believe that you can do it, if you really wanted it bad enough.” 

Whitney left after she dropped Ashlyn off at her dorm, excusing herself for some study time. Ashlyn was left alone in her room, staring seriously at the pile of soccer gear that rested against the wall. She sat on her bed twirling her right cleat in her hands, thinking seriously. There were a couple beers in the fridge. She contemplated popping one open just to take off the edge. 

“You only get out what you put in,” she muttered to the dirty cleat. 

She knew she had to make the choice. The paths were laid in front of her, her soccer bag to the left, her overflowing trash can to the right. She sat there for another hour, listening to the quiet screaming in her body, the way her sore muscles rippled with each movement, the way the bright white scars twisted as she bent and straightened her knees. Maybe she hadn’t made the choice to get injured again and again, but she could choose where to go from there. So she got up, and she made her choice.


	2. Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlyn finishes college, starts her pro career, and meets a certain you-know-who.

There were the good days, and there were the bad. 

“You don’t see how it’s fucked up that you spent it all on booze? What the fuck is wrong with you?” A loud bang, like a fist in the wall. 

“Don’t speak to me like that. I swear to God —”

“What? What?” 

“Don’t test me.” 

The arguments came and went like clockwork. Sometimes Ashlyn thought they came as surely as high tide did, easing back in the day and encroaching further and further with the falling sun. When it was the two of them, Ashlyn and Chris would escape together to the skate park or the beach, boards in hand. Any yelling was lost on the wind, a long way away. 

“Don’t look at me! What the fuck am I supposed to do about it? I’m the one who’s hurting here, not you! You don’t even know what pain is.” 

The day Chris left was a bad day. Ashlyn was losing her one piece of protection when they couldn’t be out of the house. He was leaving her, alone, to deal with everything — all that they said and did. At first, she wondered if she should take the bottles. Then, she decided she didn’t want to be around to see them. She stayed out as long as she could that day, trying desperately to tire herself out enough to avoid thinking, but it was no use. 

She laid in bed wishing that the waves she heard outside her window were closer and that her brother was home. Try as she might, her mind just couldn’t find the good days amongst all the bad. 

It’s only a couple more years, she thought to herself. It’s only a couple more years. 

Once she did leave, there were more good days. 

A good day was like when she and the rest of her team won the NCAA Championship. She had hoisted the trophy with Whitney, grinning like a fool, hardly even remembering that there was a time she was seriously going to quit. And Whitney had grinned back, laughing with her eyes. 

A bad day was when another National Team camp rolled around and she still wasn’t on the roster. She had been a staple in the youth teams; she had been their first choice for keeper. Now, she wasn’t even getting a second glance. 

Since she had moved out of her childhood home in Satellite Beach, things had been a bit better in some regards. On her athletic scholarship, room and board were paid for, as was a meal plan that accommodated for an athlete-sized diet. She had friends surrounding her, a coach who thought highly of her, and her parents were virtually nonexistent — a blessing. 

Then there were times where things were a little bittersweet. 

“So…what are you gonna do about her?” Ashlyn let out a breath she felt she’d been holding for the past two weeks. She knew Whit had been treading around the topic ever since they found out they (and fellow teammate Tobin Heath as well) would be playing for the Pali Blues that summer. 

Now that day had been a good day. They’d all gotten confirmation of their contracts with the team and celebrated first by running around Whit and Ashlyn’s dorm and then by going out for a few drinks at the favorite bar hangout for UNC students. It wasn’t the highest level of competition, but it was a step in the right direction and a sure sign, Ashlyn hoped, that she could really turn this into a career. 

“Well…” she said, drawing out the word to buy herself more time to think. It wasn’t something she particularly liked to think about. After all, she was starting to really like the girl. They weren’t serious in that way that screamed of a future, but she hadn’t really felt like this ever before. 

“Well…” 

“Have you talked to her?” 

“She knows about the team,” Ashlyn said. A beat. “She knows where the team is.” 

“Okay, but you can’t just assume that she understands where this relationship is going.” Ashlyn rolled her eyes and went back to making a sandwich. “Ashlyn, I’m serious. You actually have to have a conversation with her. You know, when you aren’t shoving your tongues down each other’s throats.” 

“We have conversations, Whitney Engen. We have plenty of conversations.” It was Whit’s turn to roll her eyes. 

“Not from what I’ve seen,” she muttered, contorting her face into the picture of disgust. Ashlyn laughed, her mind immediately taken back to all those forays in her room, her hand’s buried deeply in the girl’s hair, her scent surrounding her like a cloud. “Do you even know what you want?” 

Ashlyn shook her head. “I mean — don’t get me wrong — she’s amazing, but we’re going out to California. She’s staying here. It’s a lot. I don’t want a long distance…thing. I don’t do long distance.” 

Whitney got up from the sad, lumpy excuse of a couch they had and grabbed hold of Ashlyn’s face between her hands. Leveling their eyes, she nearly yelled at her, “Tell her then!” 

“Don’t lead her on, Ash. This was a good relationship for you.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Ashlyn replied, caught again in that space between past and present.

Sometimes there was that haze of choices and roads not taken that surrounded her like a cloud as her mind turned over each unexplored avenue, kneading it like dough until she wore herself out or worked herself into a frenzy. What if she had never met her? What if they actually were meant to be? What if she could never find anyone else like her? What if going to the Pali Blues was the wrong choice? 

“Hey, you wanna go down to Pulse? I wanna do something tonight.” Whit looked at her before shrugging. Ashlyn smiled. “You’ll have fun. I promise. And I promise it won’t get too crazy.” 

Three shots in, Ashlyn still wasn’t feeling ready for a good time. Whit still hadn’t finished her first drink, and their other friends — mostly teammates — were a collective spectrum from sober to piss drunk. Leaning against the bar with Whit on her right and Tobin to her left, her mind was still going a mile a minute, thinking about the girl who she might’ve called her girlfriend, had things happened differently. 

“To the Blues,” Tobin announced as she raised another shot. The bartender slid shots down to Ashlyn and Whitney. 

“To the Blues!” they echoed, and Ashlyn eagerly knocked back the shot, loving the way it burned her throat. It was the type of pain that distracted from other hurts — the ones that couldn’t be fixed by any physical means. Another shot in, and she began to forget. 

Another couple drinks, and she convinced herself that there was a physical method of healing those sorts of hurts as she pushed her almost-girlfriend up against her door without a care for Whitney or their other suite mates. 

Luckily there wasn’t much strain as the two broke things off, parting with an extensive study of each others’ bodies, the whole thing sealed with a kiss on the forehead as Ashlyn walked out of her room and out of her life forever. 

Meanwhile, only one of the three who traveled from Chapel Hill to Los Angeles was getting any playing time. Ashlyn and Whit grew to know the bench very well. 

“How are we supposed to get any better for the professional league if we’re vegetating on the bench like this?” Ashlyn muttered one game. 

“Practice,” Whit replied with a shrug. Ashlyn wasn’t having it, though. She shook her leg as she sat there, arms crossed like a petulant child. She watched the action in front of her, trying not to feel extremely hateful towards the starting keeper. Whitney, meanwhile, was cheering on Tobin, who had just been subbed in, like a reasonable person. 

“I’m a damn good keeper,” Ashlyn said. 

“I believe you,” Whitney replied distractedly. 

It was a bad day when the doubt crept in as she looked again at a starting line up that was devoid of her name. Like an itch in the back of her mind, the shot she had failed to save in training the previous day came back to her. Some days, she wondered if it was personal. Whit never failed to keep her from descending further into that darker place. She kept an eye on her. 

At the end of the season, neither of them had a cap to their name. Ashlyn attended National Team camp, but then seemed to fall out of favor again. The next season, they were in different cities — Ashlyn in St. Louis and Whitney in Chicago. And the cycle started again, this time with a girl named Nikki Cross in Whitney’s place. 

“So what do you do?” The brunette looked up at Ashlyn from beneath long, fluttering lashes. Ashlyn grinned to herself and leaned in closer, thankful she had worn that shirt that made her biceps look extra good. 

“I play soccer professionally,” she said. She didn’t mention that she still hadn’t gotten to play. This was one of the few dates she’d consented to go on and she wanted to impress her. “I’m a goalkeeper.”

“Wow,” the girl said, her eyes brightening. “So you’re, like, the next Hope Solo or something?” The grin slipped from Ashlyn’s face and she looked down at the drink she’d been cradling in her hand. 

“We’re completely different,” Ashlyn said, clearing her throat as she heard how sharp her voice had sounded. 

She decided dating wasn’t something she was interested in. 

Ashlyn finished up with St. Louis without a cap as well, and made the journey this time to Washington D.C. 

“You the new keeper?” Ashlyn had been approached by Abby Wambach on her first day of training. She nodded in return and they shook hands. “I’ll show you the ropes around here,” Abby said. “Obviously not for anything goalkeeper-related, but for everything else, I’m happy to help.” 

It was the best day when Ashlyn was finally, finally called into camp with the National Team again. It was last minute, but Ashlyn was too excited to care. Unfortunately, Hope Solo is unable to attend due to a shoulder injury and we would like to have another goalkeeper in camp, Paul had said over the phone. Ashlyn had of course said yes and got off the phone to hurriedly pack her things. Her flight to Georgia the next day was already booked and her ticket verification was waiting in her email. 

“Long time, no see,” Ashlyn said as she greeted Whitney in the hotel. Whitney gave her a tight hug and helped Ashlyn bring in her bags. “Getting into any trouble without me?” Ashlyn asked, trying to keep a straight face and failing gloriously. 

“Who do you think I am?” Whitney joked. 

Ashlyn let out a happy breath as they went up the the floor the team was all being housed on. As usual, US Soccer had commandeered all the rooms available in that section of the hotel, leaving a couple adjoining suites open for team meetings, games, movies, and just general relaxation. 

“I pulled some strings with Pia to let us room together,” Whitney admitted. “She wasn’t convinced at first, but I laid on that good girl charm — told her I could get you to behave — and she eventually caved.” 

“You’re the best, Whit,” Ashlyn said, wrapping Whitney in a strong, one-armed hug. Then she paused. “Wait a second…Whit, what did you tell Pia about me?” Whitney ducked out of Ashlyn’s grip and walked faster down the hallway. 

The next day, Ashlyn headed out to the field with the rest of the players, ready to practice and show her stuff. She knew that first impressions were everything and this would be a key camp for her if she wanted to stay in the running for the goalkeeper position on the senior team. 

She and the other keepers — Barnie, Jill, and Alyssa — headed out with Paul before everyone else, as was usual for those of that position. Being a keeper meant long hours of both physical and mental exertion, something Ashlyn had always enjoyed. She could put her all into her training and games, forgetting about everything else. 

Later in the day, after warm-ups, a talk with Paul, and a few drills, the field players arrived and started their own training — warm-up laps, shuttles, a short work-out, and then some drills — before the two sides combined. Ashlyn grabbed a water bottle from beside the goal and headed over to the lone bench that occupied one sideline. A few other girls congregated there with their bags, drinking water and chatting and stretching. 

Ashlyn saw her from across the circle. She had her back propped up against the bench and her legs spread out across the grass in front of her. Her dark brown hair was done up in a bun and her bright brown eyes shone as she laughed with Pinoe and HAO. She had the sort of eyes that showed her laughter, even if she wasn’t outright laughing. And she was gorgeous. 

“Hey, you dead yet?” came Whitney’s voice in Ashlyn’s ear, jolting her out of her thoughts. She felt Whitney’s arm come across her chest to grab her in a hug from behind. Laughing, Ashlyn turned. 

“Nope,” Ashlyn said. “You know I’m strong and ready to go.” She flexed a little, jokingly, until Whitney rolled her eyes at her and slapped her arm. 

Ashlyn didn’t get a chance to talk to the stunning brunette until that night at dinner. She didn’t even get to know her name until then. Dinner was a more relaxed affair because they had a night practice the next day, so groups of players went out to get food from various restaurants in the area, or stayed in and ordered take-out or room service.

“Hey, HAO is having over a few people in her room for dinner,” Whitney told Ashlyn as she poked her head into the communal relaxation room. “You wanna go or do you have other plans?” 

Ashlyn shrugged in return. “I’ll go,” she said. “What are we doing for dinner?” 

“Room service and maybe some games or something. Pinoe and Lori will probably be there, so who knows what’s going to happen.” Whitney huffed a little at that and Ashlyn knew exactly why. In college, Whitney had always been the studious, responsible one of the pair. Ashlyn had tried her best to loosen her up a bit, but she maintained much of her same personality. Ashlyn had only just met Lori, but the two of them quickly found that they got along fine — mostly because of their penchant for loud, sometimes obnoxious jokes. 

“Aw, they’re not bad,” Ashlyn scolded. “They just know how to have a good time.” 

“Well the three of you in one room is too much of a good time, in my opinion,” Whitney replied with obvious finality. 

As it turned out, Pinoe and Lori were already there by the time Ashlyn came in with Whitney. The Tar Heels in the group greeted each other enthusiastically before Ashlyn said a rowdy hello to Pinoe, which mostly involved the short-haired brunette jumping on her back, cackling all the while. 

Ashlyn looked around the room as she lounged out on HAO’s bed with Pinoe. Whitney sat in one of the chairs by the dresser, and HAO was occupying the other bed with the brunette from earlier. Her hair was down in dark waves and she was curled up against the headboard with a pillow on her lap, her eyes looking a bit duller as she quietly watched everyone’s interactions. She still looked just as strangely captivating, though, and Ashlyn blinked hard, trying to get herself to focus on something — anything — else. 

“— and so we walked in and there was Tobin, no shoes, wrapped up in a blanket like she was wearing a cape or something, and she’s just walking down the hallway,” HAO said with a laugh. Ashlyn drew herself out of her thoughts of the brunette only in time to hear the end of her story, but whatever that story was, it certainly did sound like Tobin. 

“Kriegs and I were like, Tobin, you know you’re in public, right?” Pinoe, Lori, and Whitney laughed along with her and the brunette did the same, albeit quietly. Ashlyn watched her — the way the corners of her lips turned up and her nose got a little crinkle in it. 

“Ali, are you okay?” Pinoe asked. And so Ashlyn finally got a name. Ali.

“Super tired,” the girl replied in a mumble that made a smile pull at Ashlyn’s lips. She struggled to keep it in check. “The jet lag is not going away and I don’t know why.” 

“Where’d you fly in from?” The question fell from Ashlyn’s lips before she even knew she had said it out loud. She was curious about this Ali and wanted to know more but, as Ali’s gaze landed on her, she wondered if she should’ve kept quiet. She had this look on her face that Ashlyn really couldn’t place. 

“I’m Ashlyn Harris, by the way,” she continued, trying to appear her friendliest, least-threatening self. 

“Oh, that’s right! You two haven’t met yet!” HAO said. “My bad. Ooh, that’s awkward.” She held out a hand to indicate Ali. “Ashlyn, this is Ali Krieger — resident princess and right back. Ali, this is Ashlyn Harris — fellow Tar Heel and goalkeeper.” 

Resident princess. Ashlyn smirked at the descriptor, wondering exactly what it referred to. Was she secretly a diva? Super high-maintenance? Whatever it was, she assumed it didn’t put anyone off from being her friend. HAO seemed to dote on her, and HAO was a good judge of people. 

“Hey,” Ali said in greeting. “And, in answer to your question, I flew in from Germany probably…the day before you got here?” Her voice trailed off. “Yeah, I guess that’s right. My times are so off. It’s pretty late at night over there right now.” 

“Germany,” Ashlyn repeated, impressed. “What do you do over there?” 

Ali laughed a little. “Play football,” she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I play for FFC Frankfurt in the Bundesliga.” 

“Ali’s super pro,” Lori said. “She went over there after college and got on one of the best teams and learned the language and everything.” Ashlyn watched as Ali’s cheeks grew pink. Her eyes shone, though, and she seemed to hold her head a bit higher after that complement. 

Ashlyn enjoyed training with the senior National Team for a few reasons. 1) It was a whole new level of play that she was unused to and she loved the challenge. 2) Paul (and Barnie) were showing her how to make better decisions in her goalkeeping so that she didn’t always have to make those grand, acrobatic saves. It was something that she had a hard time grasping, but she knew she’d have to learn this if she was to improve at all. 3) Her teammates were absolutely the greatest. 4) She enjoyed teasing Ali during training. 

Ashlyn was intrigued by Ali. She seemed very quiet and reserved until approached with some fashion quandary, which she readily solved, or someone mentioned shopping or Germany, both of which made her perk up like a dog smelling a treat. The most interesting of Ali’s reactions, however, was her laugh. The sound was like joy incarnate, but Ashlyn was most interested in her wide, toothy smile and the way her nose crinkled. Once Ashlyn noticed it for the first time, it was like she became addicted. She needed to see it again and again. 

It became a bit of a routine for her. They occasionally crossed paths in the hotel because they had a very similar group of friends (though sometimes Ali would go off with Heather Mitts to do more ‘girly’ things), but they never hung out with just the two of them. Still, Ashlyn wanted badly to get to know her and really become her friend, more than just a teammate. So, as the keepers and the field players came together for small-side scrimmages or other drills, Ashlyn would always give her a bit of a hard time. 

“How’s the jet lag doing?” she asked one afternoon. Ali was standing on the sideline along with the rest of their team for the scrimmage. On the field, two others were getting into place. Soon, they would rotate one out. 

“Better,” Ali replied with a smile. “I’m just dreading having to go through all of this again when I go back.” 

“Well I’m glad,” Ashlyn replied. “I wouldn’t want my defense to fall asleep on me.” Ali’s cheeks reddened as she looked at Ashlyn and Ashlyn realized how that may have sounded. “I mean…” she started. 

“You’re fine,” Ali laughed in return. 

They rotated in for Abby Wambach’s team and settled into their positions. Ashlyn clapped her gloves together and jumped a couple times to warm herself up. In front of her, Ali and Lep were playing defense. Then she had Lori, A-Rod, and Cheney. They started off as an even match — Ashlyn learned most scrimmages were just like that, a battle between two sides which simply refused to back down.

Ashlyn caught Tobin’s shot in her arms easily and rolled it out to Ali, who dribbled up the right flank to send a ball in to A-Rod in front of the opposing goal. Mittsy managed to win the ball from A-Rod’s dancing feet, though, and her team went on the attack, sending in a shot that curved just out of reach of Ashlyn’s outstretched fingers as she launched herself across the goal. 

Tobin, Mittsy, and the others cheered and gave each other high fives as Ashlyn pulled herself up off the grass and dug the ball out of the net. When she turned around, Ali was back in her position. 

“So…Do you have jet lag or another excuse?” she asked teasingly, pursing her lips. 

“Oh, get out of here,” Ashlyn scowled at her, waving her gloved hand. They grinned a little at each other, and then Ashlyn sent the ball up to Cheney so they could start again. 

Ashlyn refused to admit that she was developing a crush. Things like that didn’t really happen to her. She wasn’t a relationship-y type and, even if she was, she knew better than to mix soccer with all of that. It was a recipe for disaster in her opinion — no matter how cute Abby and Sarah were off the pitch. Anyway, it wasn’t a crush. Sure, she thought that Ali was pretty — anyone with eyes could see that — and she appreciated her humor, the way she talked, the way she walked, the way she played on the pitch. Sure, Ashlyn wanted to always spend more time with her, but it was in a friendly way.

Which was exactly why Ashlyn was up late at night trying to think of a good excuse to, in a very friend-type way, ask for Ali’s number. She rolled over and adjusted her covers and the pillow behind her head for what felt like the hundredth time in an hour. Whitney must’ve thought the same because she let out a loud groan and sat up in bed. 

“Okay,” she said through the darkness. “You are going to tell me exactly what is bothering you and we are going to talk this out because I cannot deal with you tossing and turning all night.” Ashlyn was thankful that the light wasn’t on because she was fairly sure that she was blushing. She turned to face Whitney. 

“Do you think Ali thinks we’re friends — her and me?” Ashlyn asked seriously. She could almost sense Whit rolling her eyes, as was the usual when the two of them were together. 

“I guess so,” she replied. “I mean, you two have only been talking with each other non-stop for the past week.” Ashlyn grinned to herself. 

As camp had gone on, the two of them had grown closer. Part of it was devised — Ashlyn could always find an excuse to show up in HAO’s room. Part of it was just that they seemed to click really well. Ali was pretty funny; she just wasn’t as out there as HAO or Pinoe were. Even when a joke leaned more towards cheesy, Ashlyn found it insanely cute. They seemed to always be able to talk about something — Ali would tell her stories about Germany, and Ashlyn would in turn share stories about UNC or Florida. 

“Yeah, but are we camp friends, or real friends?”

“I think that’s between you and her, really,” Whit replied. “Why are you stressing about this?” Whitney suddenly seemed to jump in her bed. “No, Ash,” she said seriously. “Don’t tell me you have a crush on her.” 

“What?” Ashlyn exclaimed in return, raising her hands as if someone had just said ‘Freeze!’. “No way, Whit. Come on.” 

“She’s straight and your teammate. That’s like double off limits…She lives on another continent. That’s triple off limits!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Whit,” Ashlyn replied. “You know I don’t do distance and, although I did do straight girls in the past, that is not me anymore.” 

The day they were all supposed to leave camp and head back home, Ashlyn did end up getting Ali’s number. In fact, she had it thrust upon her as hers was demanded in return. Ali was quite clear that she wanted them to keep talking. 

“Eh, I suppose I could call you now and then,” Ashlyn said with mock trepidation. She grinned as Ali whacked her in the arm. “Alright, alright, we’ll talk. I promise. Skype dates and everything.” Ali flushed bright red at that and looked away. Ashlyn cringed, reminding herself not to joke about them dating ever again. 

As Ali’s cab arrived, Ashlyn held out her arms for a hug, but Ali looked at her with mild disdain before giving Ashlyn the lamest hug she’d ever gotten in her entire life. Ashlyn felt herself nearly go into shock from the lack of warmth. 

“What was that?” she asked. 

“I’m not a hugger,” Ali replied, scrunching her nose with distaste. 

“Well obviously,” Ashlyn replied. “We’ll have to work on that whenever you’re back in the states.” 

On the short plane ride back to Satellite Beach, Ashlyn let her head fall back against the headrest and a smile creep across her face. She’d had more than a good day; it’d been a good couple weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! Be sure to leave me a review so I know what you think! 
> 
> Next chapter will be more meaningful. AH and AK will get closer and I promise quite a bit of cuteness, but this story will mostly not be fluff.


	3. Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlyn goes to Cancun pt. 1

Ashlyn grew to wonder whether Paul and Pia got some sort of sick pleasure out of calling her late at night to tell her she was going to a camp she’d been left off of the roster for. She hoped soon she’d actually be able to find out her travel plans after seeing her name actually printed on the roster, instead of frantically trying to piece things together at the last minute, her heart thumping in her chest, her luggage looking so haphazardly put together it made her twitch. She was sure she’d forgotten everything. Still, she found herself on a flight bound to Mexico and CONCACAF Olympic Qualifying. 

As she arrived at the team’s hotel, Ashlyn was pulled into a tight hug by Abby, who patted her head affectionately and said, “Knew you’d get the call again soon, kid.” Then she was greeted by the rest of the UNC crew — Whitney, Tobin, Yael, and HAO — and the girls she’d played with on the youth teams. 

“Hello, Ashlyn,” Paul said. “Good things from you, I hope.” 

“Yes, Sir,” Ashlyn replied. 

“Roommate assignments!” Abby called out to the growing crowd of US Soccer players and staff. She waved a folded piece of paper at them all and said, “Go get them — hurry up.” 

“Ashlyn, yours is Hope’s room. Just collect her envelope,” Dawn said as she and Whitney searched through the stack. 

“Fingers crossed,” Ashlyn said to Whit as they collected their respective assignments. She winked at her before unfolding the paper and finding the name of her roommate for that camp. 

“Heather O’Reilly,” Whitney read out loud with a smile. Across the room, HAO perked her head up and looked around until she found Whitney. 

“TAR!” she started. Ashlyn and Whitney broke out into giggles amongst the groans of all the other players. 

“HEELS!” The UNC alum chanted back. 

“Who’d you get?” Whitney asked. 

“Alexandra Krieger,” Ashlyn read. She could feel the silly grin spreading across her face as her thumb brushed over the little letters printed on the paper. She looked up as she felt something slap her arm. Whitney was looking at her, arms crossed, her roommate assignment rolled up into a paper tube. 

“Behave yourself,” she said, one eyebrow raised. 

“Like I said, Whit,” Ashlyn replied, resting a hand on her shoulder, “You don’t have to worry about anything happening. I don’t think of her that way at all.” 

She swallowed thickly as she stepped away, shoving her hands in the pockets of her sweats and trying to listen to whatever Pinoe and Lori were going on about this time. Ashlyn couldn’t help but surreptitiously look around to see if Ali had gotten in yet. When everyone decided to head up to their rooms, she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. 

Throughout their weeks apart, Ashlyn and Ali kept in contact, texting each other daily. They chatted throughout the day about what they were doing and what their training was like, the conversations stilted because of the time change. Still, they never talked about anything less than face value and Ashlyn wished she could get to know Ali more. 

As everyone was so excited that Ashlyn had gotten the late call-up, her room turned into the UNC party room once everyone migrated to the third floor to put away all their things before the team dinner and meeting. Ashlyn put on some music and she and HAO told stories while Tobin, shoeless, perched on the desk in the corner of the room, and Yael and Whit spread themselves out on the bed Ashlyn had claimed. The occasional outsider would stop by their room, scoff at the amount of Carolina blue in the place and make their way down the hall again. 

Ali didn’t arrive until later when Ashlyn was, quite loudly to be heard over the blasting rap music, re-telling the story of Tobin and the cake that went missing. From her perch on the desk, Tobin was pretty much losing her shit laughing. Tears were streaming down Whit’s face as she struggled to get out the words to add to the story. Ali stood in the doorway with all of her luggage, looking a bit confused. 

“Hey, Kriegs is here!” HAO shouted, only gaining the attention of Yael. The two of them hurried over to help the defender with her bags and envelop her in hugs which she tried to escape from. 

“Ashlyn, you goof. Your roommate is here!” HAO threw a pillow at Ashlyn’s legs. She spun around and her eyes landed on Ali, and she found herself smiling broadly once more. 

“Hey, Al!” she greeted her cheerfully. She tripped over the pillow slightly as she made her way over to her. Stopping in front of her, she held out her arms. “Are we going to work on your hugging skills?” she teased. Ali blushed and mumbled something in return. 

“What was that?” Ali took a step forward and more so let Ashlyn hug her than reciprocated anything. Her hands brushed against the back of Ashlyn’s shirt as though she was a ghost or something. 

“I said you were a massive jerk,” Ali replied into the fabric at Ashlyn’s shoulder. 

As they pulled away from one another and Ashlyn went over to help lug Ali’s bags into the room, stacking them at the end of the bed nearest to the door, she finally got a good look at Ali. Her hair was tied back in a low bun, fly-aways surrounding her face. She was wearing leggings and a t-shirt, but she looked so effortlessly beautiful that Ashlyn could barely stand it. 

“I see you’ve invited all of Chapel Hill in here.” 

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a reunion,” Ashlyn said as she moved to lower the volume of the music. 

“Man, why am I not rooming with Alyssa?” Ali sighed. The edges of Ashlyn’s lips quirked into a smile. 

“Oh are we starting this again?” Ali smirked. She’d been the start of many of their other “my alma mater is better than yours” arguments. 

After team dinner, there was the standard introductory meeting to the camp. Pia pulled out her guitar and strummed some tunes as everyone put their plates away and got settled in front of the projector. Then she outlined the schedule for the entirety of their time together in Cancun. After their short residency, there would be three days of training before their first game against Haiti, a day of recovery sandwiched between two other games, followed by a longer break for training and relaxation. Then, the last two games in quick succession. 

As Dawn Scott got up to talk about what their training regiment would look like, Ashlyn felt herself grow lighter and lighter. Sitting there beside Whitney, she was all too glad to be back. After another song, which Pia insisted that everyone sing along to, the girls all got up and made the mass migration to their rooms. They’d all been told to get a lot of rest for the following day’s training, but everyone knew that there would be far too much catching up to do for an early night. 

Hugs were doled out liberally as everyone said goodnight before following their respective roommates to their rooms for the night. Ali said a cheerful goodnight to HAO and Megan Rapinoe before opening the door to their room. She threw herself onto the bed closest to the door, shutting her eyes lightly. Ashlyn smiled as she watched her, simply breathing. 

“Tired?” she asked. Ali groaned and nodded. 

“Jet-lag’s a bitch,” Ashlyn said sympathetically. She bent down by her luggage to pull out her bag of toiletries and her pajamas — a pair of UNC shorts and a UNC t-shirt. Looking down at the emblem on the chest, she wondered if Ali would have anything to say about it. She headed towards the bathroom but stopped short of the door, looking back to see Ali, who fluttered her eyes open and closed. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out right now.” 

“I might,” Ali replied. 

“No you won’t.” Ashlyn reached out with her sock-clad foot and nudged Ali’s thigh. “You got the bathroom first. Come on. Wouldn’t want you to doze off waiting for me to finish.” 

“Thanks,” Ali said, pushing herself off of the bed and quickly grabbing her things. Ashlyn held the door open for her like a nice, refined butler, causing Ali to giggle. She tucked her things under her arm and slipped past Ashlyn, brushing slightly against her, chest to chest, as she went. Ashlyn halted her breathing for that little moment, her entire existence focused on that breath of a touch.

Maybe if she had breathed out, they would’ve touched more completely. 

“You know,” Ali called out. Ashlyn perked her head up to see Ali poking her own out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. “I’m super glad you’re my roommate this time. This might sound a bit weird, but I kind of missed you after camp ended.” 

“We talked all the time,” Ashlyn protested, trying to ignore the way her chest tightened with Ali’s admission. 

“It’s not the same,” Ali replied with a shrug. “Anyway, I feel like we could be really good friends.” 

Ashlyn wondered if it was possible to physically feel herself fall for Ali. She certainly could pinpoint exactly where in her body she ached whenever Ali would brush close to her, whether in a friendly way or by mistake. Everything about her seemed to pull her in and, despite her promises to Whit, she couldn’t help but admit that she had a little crush. It was only a schoolgirl type of feeling, and Ashlyn was sure that she could power through it, but damn it if Ali wasn’t making it difficult. 

“Where are you going?” Ashlyn asked as Ali got up and stretched and headed towards the door to their room. It was just after dinner, but they had training again the next morning, so most of the team was starting to wind down and take some time for themselves. 

“A walk,” Ali replied. She glanced around her quickly, as though there was someone else there to hear her. “Actually, they have a lot of weddings in this hotel and I just really love weddings so I — ”

“You’re going to crash a wedding looking like that?” Ashlyn grinned at her, enjoying how flustered Ali got in response. She was wearing an old shirt and athletic shorts and, though Ashlyn did think she looked cute, it obviously wasn’t wedding attire. 

“It’s not crashing if there’s no one there,” Ali protested. “It’s…investigating. I’m going to investigate the wedding.” Ashlyn sighed loudly and stood up. “What?” Ali asked defensively. 

“Well someone has to accompany you,” Ashlyn said. “Everyone knows a good investigator always has a sidekick. Just call me Watson.” Ali rolled her eyes but Ashlyn could tell she was amused as the brunette held the door open and signaled for Ashlyn to follow her. 

After their investigation Ashlyn and Ali continued their walk along the little strip of land that led from the hotel to the beach. Ashlyn was still riding the high that being close to Ali brought. She lived off of her energy as she excitedly talked about wedding planning and the styles of decor used at that particular reception. 

“You’re so into this,” Ashlyn had noted. Ali smiled. 

“I think I might like to plan weddings when I’m not playing football anymore. They’re celebrations of love! Who wouldn’t want to be around them.” 

Ashlyn found that hard to believe. Not every marriage was that happy. The cynic in her wanted to believe that everyone else’s parents were just as unsuited for each other as hers were. Even then, Ali’s exuberance was starting to change her mind. 

Their steps were illuminated by the intermittent light posts along the way and the moon, looking particularly bright over the water. Ashlyn’s eyes immediately found the sea in the darkness, watching as the water crawled up the sand before retreating again. Its journey was longer, higher up the beach as was the will of the moon above. 

Ashlyn paused in her stride to slip off her shoes and roll up the bottoms of her sweats. The sand felt cool and soft under her feet. She looked up to see Ali watching her, then she mimicked her actions, holding her flip flops between the fingers of her right hand. 

“So do you have a thing?” 

“What?” 

“Like I really like weddings. What’s your thing.” Ashlyn smiled lightly. 

“This,” she said, waving her arm out to indicate the ocean. They’d started their walk down the shore, each of their feet coated in a light dusting of sand. Ashlyn was drawn ever closer to the water — magnetic — and she could just feel the tickle of the waves lapping over her feet. “I grew up in Florida, so the beach was an everyday sort of thing. I’d go out to the beach and surf or just swim…It relaxes me, just smelling salt in the air and feeling the sea breeze.” 

“That sounds so nice,” Ali said. “My mom lives in Miami and she absolutely loves the sun down there.” 

“I’m from down near Orlando. It’s a good place.” Ashlyn saw her usual surf spot, the skate park, the sandwich shop she’d frequent after a long day at the beach. “Good people.” Liz, her cousins, Chris. 

“Ooh, did you go to Disney World a lot as a kid?” Ali’s face was lit up so brightly, Ashlyn felt bad that she didn’t have a nicer answer for her. 

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “My family didn’t — doesn’t — have money for that sort of thing.” 

“Oh… Well you must miss your family there.”

“I don’t know if miss is exactly the right emotion,” Ashlyn admitted. “We don’t talk a lot and, actually, I think it’s better that way.” She watched as Ali’s expression dropped a little. She was quiet, and Ashlyn knew she was struggling to direct their conversation away from that; she was unsure how to continue. 

“Want me to really show you my ‘thing’?” Ashlyn asked, a sly grin spreading on her face. Ali looked up at her curiously. Ashlyn smiled wider, letting her know that they were okay. 

“Alright, then,” Ali said, her admission of consent turning into a high-pitched squeal as Ashlyn bent over and grabbed Ali around the waist, hoisting her up over her shoulder and running down into the water. She laughed as she felt Ali’s hands grip at her shoulders, pulling at her shirt as she repeatedly squealed, “Ashlyn, put me down!” 

Even in late October, the water was warm and comfortable. She waded in until the water brushed just under her knees, spinning the two of them and enjoying the feel of the spray on her legs. It reminded her of nights spent on the beach with her cousins, running around and playing tag and Marco Polo in the surf. 

“Put you down?” she asked. 

“Yes!” Ali insisted. 

“Okay,” Ashlyn said. She shifted Ali’s weight off her shoulder, holding her securely in her arms before dumping her in the water. Ali’s feet went in first, sending up a spray of salt water. Then she began to fall back, losing her balance. Wide eyes shot up to meet Ashlyn’s as she yelped again. 

“I got you,” Ashlyn assured her as she caught Ali’s hands and pulled her back to an upright position. Ali pulled her hands free from Ashlyn’s grip and hit her repeatedly with the flip flops she had still managed to hold onto. 

“I thought you were going to just let me fall!” she said. Giggling, Ashlyn held out her hands to stop Ali’s attack, but the defender was relentless. “You are sooo dead, you don’t even know!”

Ashlyn backed up a couple feet before turning and making a run for it, lifting her knees high to make it through the water. Behind her, Ali splashed in pursuit, still brandishing her flip flops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews, guys. Keep them coming! I'd love to hear what you all think. 
> 
> This was just a short one. Next one will be longer.


	4. Ripples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlyn and Ali learn a lot about each other. Crashing weddings, Halloween parties, heart-to-hearts... All that good stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter explicitly references my Tumblr url so try to see if you can guess what it is. Idk. This could be insanely hard but also.... (hint: nothing to do with my name on AO3 and it's a big part of the Halloween stuff)

Training ended early because it was raining. Hard. 

They’d all looked up with disinterest as the first couple drops pattered on their faces. After all, they’d played and practiced in much, much worse. Field player drills continued without interruption as Ashlyn and the other goalkeepers, sequestered in their own end of the field, dove left and right on the slick grass. 

Then the heavens had opened up as though a large bucket of water was being dumped on them all and, amidst the shrill squeals of the players, everyone made a nearly-organized dash for their things. The equipment was all packed up in record time as players and staff alike scurried to the team vans. Each plopped in a seat with a sigh, wiping rain and sweat from their faces and laughing like loons at the downpour outside. 

Somewhere amongst the running around, Ashlyn found herself diving into the last seat of a van containing Alyssa, Barnie, Stephanie, and Ali. Ashlyn looked over at her teammate, her hair dripping on the seat. As their eyes met, they burst into laughter together. Ashlyn reached up to wring the water out of her hair over Ali’s head. The defender yelped and batted her away. 

As the vans all pulled up in front of the hotel, it was another mad dash from the safety of the vans to the safety of the hotel lobby. Laughing and slugging water and mud everywhere they went, the crew from US Soccer blew past the stunned hotel staff and loaded into elevators to make their way to their rooms. 

“Did you see Barnie?” Ashlyn laughed she shut the door behind her and Ali. “She looked like an angry cat.” Ali laughed, poking her head out of the bathroom to mimic Barnie’s expression. 

“Ugh, this is disgusting,” Ali said as she pulled off her cleats, each one squelching loudly, and then her mud-covered socks. Wet grass was plastered all over her legs. “Look!” she squealed. “Unreal.” 

Ashlyn’s eyes traversed the length of Ali’s legs appreciatively. Her legs were muscular, defined, long and toned. And she couldn’t help but think that Ali looked astoundingly cute with grass and mud along her knees, her face pink with laughter. 

“You still look good to me,” Ashlyn said. She paused as she realized what she’d just said, wishing she could take it back. Ali was looking at her with that weird expression that she couldn’t yet figure out. Ashlyn looked away and moved out of Ali’s line of sight so that she could shuck off her shirt and cleats. 

Ali and Ashlyn took turns showering, Ashlyn deciding to break the weird tension that hung between them by singing loudly and awfully. Freshly cleaned up and bundled up in comfy sweats and sweatshirts, Ali invited Ashlyn over to her bed and pulled out her laptop so that they could watch a movie. 

As it was nearing Halloween, Ali put on The Nightmare Before Christmas and the pair sat back against their collective pile of pillows, each buried snugly under the covers. Ashlyn noted that the movie could be considered more of a Christmas movie than Halloween, but Ali simply said, “It’s multi-holiday,” with an easy shrug. 

There were times when Ashlyn’s heart beat so fast she wondered how she was not going into cardiac arrest. And then there were times when she seemed to count long seconds between each pulse and time slowed so greatly she wondered how she had ever made it through that long before. With Ali so close beside her, her heart seemed to be executing a series of jumps and skips, a strange dance of palpitations. 

“That stuff you mentioned on the beach the other night…” Ali started, her eyes still focused on the movie. Ashlyn swallowed thickly. She looked at the space that separated their sides from touching, wondering if the eight inches was too much or too little for this conversation. 

“Do you want to talk about it? Are you okay?” 

Ashlyn smiled lightly, but her eyes saw past Ali. 

Control. As much as she appreciated Ali wanting to check up on her, she didn’t want to have that conversation yet. If she was entirely honest, she couldn’t figure out exactly why she had mentioned anything to Ali. 

“Have you seen me? I’m perfectly fine,” Ashlyn replied easily. Control. Deflection. “Honestly, all of that is behind me now.” 

And it was. She hadn’t seen her parents in a couple years or spoken to them very much at all. She only kept in contact with Chris and her grandmother and a couple cousins. Chris she called every now and then, just to check in on him. Sometimes she found him worse off than others and she would hang up feeling stuck a little deeper in the past as her mind tried to fill in the blank spaces of his life. How many highs and lows had she missed? 

“Okay, Ashlyn,” Ali said with that look again. Ashlyn’s smile faltered and she looked away. She waited for it to come, but Ali didn’t question her further or pressure her to talk. Ashlyn toyed with the top of the puffy white comforter, watching Ali watch the movie out of the corner of her eye. She knew neither of them was really paying attention to it anymore. 

In a way, Ashlyn was thankful when Pinoe knocked on their door and told them to come down to the conference room to watch film from a couple of their opponents’ recent games. It was like they’d both been holding their breath the entire time and finally, finally they could let it out again. 

The next day, they played Haiti and won easily. Ashlyn didn’t dress out. Ali didn’t play. After everyone had returned to the hotel, they’d looked at each other and it was like a silent pact passed between them. Patience, Ali’s eyes said. You’ll get your turn, Ashlyn’s said in reply. 

The next day’s training was held in the weight room of the training complex near the hotel. The players who’d seen the field got a relaxing pool session. Those who were benched got a lovely workout to do. The team trooped over there in matching US Soccer shorts and tanks, half of them excited for an easy day spent stretching and relaxing their muscles in the water, the other half grumbling about the pain they were about to endure. Ashlyn and the other benched goalkeepers were pulled aside as usual and given a special workout from Paul, focusing on their upper body and core for the day. The others did a range of strength and agility drills as well as some weights. 

Ashlyn loved the burn. It was the type of pain that she knew made her better. With each repetition, she could feel her muscles growing stronger. Not to mention, it put her in a good head space, too. 

Gritting her teeth against the pain in her arms, Ashlyn kicked out her legs and forced her body to obey her. Just one more and she would be done. Just a little more. She pulled her bodyweight up, her chin back over the bar and then, a feeling of intense relief rushing through her, she let herself drop, exhausted, back down to the floor. 

“Great form,” she heard in a familiar mumble. Grinning, she turned to see Ali standing behind her, one hand resting jauntily on her hip and the other gripping a water bottle. Ashlyn could tell she’d been going hard as well from the mane of fly-aways that had escaped her ponytail and the dark sweat marks on her tank top. 

“Thanks,” Ashlyn said. “I gotta keep these babies up to standard.” She flexed exaggeratedly, drawing a nose-crinkling laugh from Ali’s throat. Ashlyn let out a breath of relief as she was flooded with giddiness no post-workout endorphins could ever provide her with. 

“I don’t know. Keep that up and I think your head will get bigger than your guns ever will be,” Ali replied, smiling with her tongue between her teeth. Ashlyn watched her with wonder, nearly forgetting to respond. 

“Hey, I resent that! And aren’t you supposed to be working out, missy?” 

“Cool-down break,” Ali said offhandedly, flipping her ponytail. 

“You’re such a princess,” Ashlyn laughed, shaking her head. 

“Excuse you, but I could beat your ass if I wanted to.” 

“Really, now…” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Krieger!” The two of them looked around to see Dawn Scott yelling from the opposite side of the room. “Unless you want to play in goal with Harris, I suggest you get back to work with the other defenders.” 

“Ooh, you better thank Dawn for saving you.” Ali narrowed her eyes at Ashlyn. 

“You’re a bad influence, Ashlyn Harris,” she said before sticking her tongue out at Ashlyn and walking away. Ashlyn watched as Ali picked out a medicine ball and joined Whitney for a partner exercise. 

Ashlyn was admonished again by Paul as she returned to her own workout. “This may be Cancun, Harris,” he said, “But this is also the CONCACAF qualifying camp. If you’re not serious, I’m happy to just send you home.” Ashlyn had nodded demurely and kept her form in the best shape she could for the rest of their session. 

Being the roommate of Ali Krieger meant a few things: 1) any sort of order Ashlyn tried to keep in the room was undone as Ali’s things ended up literally everywhere. 2) She had to learn to live with the smell of nail polish because Ali insisted on doing her nails and half the team’s as well. 3) Ashlyn had to remember to breathe every time they got too close or their eyes met while she was smiling in her Ali Krieger way or she stripped in front of her without a care. 

“How have I not seen that before?” 

“Huh?” Ashlyn watched with confusion and, admittedly, mild fear as Ali leapt over her open suitcase to get closer to her. The two had just finished showering after their training session, Ashlyn emerging from the steam-filled bathroom wearing only shorts and a sports bra and drying her hair with a towel. 

“Your tattoos,” Ali replied. She reached out and Ashlyn instinctually flinched a little. “Oh, sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” Ashlyn corrected hurriedly. She gazed curiously at Ali’s face, the way she looked so intensely interested. “You can look, if you want.” She moved so that her left side was on full display for Ali, who stepped closer to admire the colors and patterns that were splayed across her skin. Ashlyn’s skin prickled a little with how closely Ali was examining her. It was almost like she could feel a shadow of her touch. 

“Beautiful work,” Ali commented after she’d soaked up the intricacies of each flower. 

“There’s more,” Ashlyn said, “A butterfly right here.” She indicated the area above the flowers that was covered by her bra. “And I have my brother’s name over here.” She ran her hand near the underside of her breast.

“Any more?” Ashlyn laughed. 

“No, but I want more,” she said. “I have some ideas, but I’m still saving up.” She relaxed herself again and flipped her hair to continue drying it. “What about yours?” she asked finally. “I’ve been meaning to ask what that says on your arm and side.” 

“Oh, Liebe,” Ali said, looking at her forearm with a caring sort of smile. “It means ‘love’ in German. And the quote on my side is German, too — from The Little Prince.” 

“Any others?” Ashlyn echoed Ali. 

“Just this,” Ali said, pulling the waistband of her shorts and underwear down a little so that Ashlyn got a nice view of the Penn State logo on her hip bone, topped off with a number 22. Ashlyn grinned, both at the tattoo and the placement. 

“You really are a Penn State girl,” Ashlyn laughed. “I don’t even have one for UNC.” 

“Ooh, you wouldn’t want to ruin your body with that,” Ali joked, smiling with her tongue between her teeth. 

“You mean perfect my body,” Ashlyn corrected, feigning offense. “Not that it’s not perfect already,” she corrected again. 

“You’re such a narcissist,” Ali drawled. She picked up her brush and started to work through the wet tangle of her hair. 

“So what’s your costume gonna be?” Ashlyn asked. 

“Shit,” she said. 

“Woah, Kriegs. Watch the language!” 

“Shut up.” Ali picked up her discarded towel and whipped it at Ashlyn, but hardly caught her arm. “I completely forgot about the costume party.” She bit her lip contemplatively. “I suppose I can put something together last minute…” 

“How could you forget? Everyone’s been talking about it.” 

“I’ve been hanging out with you all the time!” Ali replied with exasperation. “So, if you’re so prepared, what are you going as?” 

“It’s a surprise,” Ashlyn said. “But I promise you, it’s good.” 

The game against Guatemala was basically a joke. The players never really treated games that way but, from the sidelines, players joked and laughed and hardly watched, looking up only to see yet another shot find the back of the net. Afterwards, the locker room was filled with noise — loud music, laughter, chatter. Everyone was recounting their favorite shots, trying to one-up the other goal-scorers. Ali had gotten a handful of minutes at the end there, filling in for Heather Mitts. Ashlyn waited for her to get changed and they headed to the vans together. 

“Hey, let’s go,” Ashlyn said as she came into the room. She’d just been out to fill up their ice bucket, but she had been distracted by the interesting view from the hall window. Ali was sprawled on her bed, looking through something on her phone. She looked up with a confused expression. 

“Meeting’s not for like an hour,” she said. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Ashlyn insisted. She tugged at Ali’s foot to get her out of bed. The defender grumbled all the way along their journey downstairs but immediately apologized once Ashlyn led her to the covered patio where a large wedding reception was being set up. 

“Care to investigate, Ms. Holmes?” Ashlyn asked. Ali laughed and the two hurried around looking at all the different place settings. Aaron Heifetz soon found them and, shrugging at each other, they agreed to do a few funny poses for him. 

The next day’s training was filled with Halloween spirit. Pinoe wore a mask to training and refused to take it off and the field players played a game of “werewolves and humans”, Dawn’s Halloween twist on sharks and minnows. After some convincing, Paul allowed the goalkeepers to join as well, but they were all easily taken out by the “werewolves” in the starting rounds. 

Pacing around the midfield line, Ashlyn watched her prey. She and the other werewolves, Barnie, Alyssa, Stephanie, Whit, and Lori, started getting really into the true embodiment of werewolves, baring their teeth and snarling at the humans lined up at the end of the field. 

“Ready, set…go!” Dawn called, setting the humans loose upon the field. Some, mostly the forwards, used the ‘run as fast as you can and don’t look back’ strategy while others, mostly the defenders, tried the ‘choose your moment wisely and break their ankles’ strategy. Ashlyn kept her gaze on one human in particular, deciding that her main goal this game would be to make her a werewolf. 

Ali crept up the field at a casual lope, her eyes looking out for the penny-clad werewolves that were occupied many yards in front of her with chasing the speedy Alex Morgan, Sydney Leroux, and mask-wearing Megan Rapinoe. On the other end of the field, Abby Wambach was blowing past a couple werewolves while, just a step behind her, Sarah Huffman was tagged. 

Ashlyn knew from scrimmages during training that Ali had speed, but she’d never realized just how fast the defender really was until her lungs and legs were burning trying to keep up with her. Ali had noticed that Ashlyn wasn’t going after the other players, preferring to watch her advancement down the field. With a smirk, Ali had continued straight along her path towards Ashlyn before easily faking her out and speeding past her. 

The other end line of the field was approaching and Ashlyn was still a full stride behind Ali. She decided her last hope lay in a lunging jump at her legs. She just needed to get one touch in. Calling on her reserves of strength, Ashlyn willed her feet to move just that little bit faster. Reaching out, she just went for it and cheered silently as she felt her fingers meet damp fabric. Then she tasted grass and felt the sharp pain of something hard under her side. She looked up to see Ali’s cleat. 

“This is not tackle football, Harris, it’s sharks and minnows,” Dawn called out, causing Ashlyn to blush. She got up quickly and leaned over to offer Ali her hand. 

“You mean werewolves and humans!” Pinoe called out from the opposite end line. 

In that round, Sarah, Mittsy, Lep, and Ali had all been caught. The latter accepted Ashlyn’s hand, but looked at her with a steely challenge in her eyes. 

“You’re getting really close to Krieger.” 

I know, Ashlyn thought. She was getting ready for the Halloween party with Whit in the room she shared with HAO. Whit, who was going as a bumble bee was just hot gluing yellow pompoms to the tops of her pipe cleaner antennas. Ashlyn had spent the past twenty minutes blowing up her inflatable orca the old fashioned way and was nearly there. 

“Are you worried because we haven’t seen much of each other this camp?” Ashlyn teased. “Because you know you’re still my best friend.” 

“Very funny,” Whit said, adjusting her finished headband. “I just want you to be careful.” 

“Is Ali dangerous?” 

“That depends what you want to be to her,” Whitney replied. “Just…”

“We’re not doing anything, Whit,” Ashlyn said sharply. “It’s not like that.” Ashlyn made her excuses and left the room, heading back down the hallway. She knew Whitney only meant well, but she felt she couldn’t help her response. She knew that her feelings for Ali, if they could be called feelings, would only give her more pain, but she didn’t want to face the harsh reality of that yet. It was too nice, just being near to her. 

Halfway down the hall, Ashlyn passed the alcove that housed a couple vending machines and, more importantly to the players and staff, the ice machine. She heard the whir of the machine and voices talking quietly, but didn’t pay it any mind until she heard her name. Ashlyn’s ears perked immediately and she paused in her walk, resting her back casually against the wall. 

“She’s got a fearless sort of style,” one voice noted. Ashlyn’s eyes widened as she realized it was Pia. 

“But she’s giving away a lot of easy saves because of it. I don’t think it’s bravery that she throws herself around like that. It’s like some ego-trip death wish.” That was Paul. 

“That’s a bit dramatic.” Dawn Scott. 

“Maybe,” Paul said, “But I stand by my assessment. Stick with Barnie and Jill. She’s not ready.” 

Ashlyn didn’t wait to hear anything else. She pulled away from the wall and strode down the hall, head down, feet carrying her as quickly as they could away from there. Behind her, Shammy the orca bounced along the thin carpet unceremoniously. In the swirls of pattern beneath her feet, she could see the youth national team wins, her starting place with UNC, their NCAA win. She could hear the praise she’d been showered with as a youth player. That she was going to be something. That she was going places. 

Of course she knew, after such long radio silence from the national team, she wouldn’t win herself a spot on any roster in the near future but, as the darkening shadows began to encroach on her vision, she couldn’t help but hate herself and her performance for the past week. 

“Woah, slow down there!” Ashlyn was jolted back to the present as her body collided with another. Looking down, she saw Ali Krieger staring back up at her and she began to feel the dark haze start to dissipate. Heat burned through her t shirt where Ali’s hands were resting, one on her side, the other near her shoulder. She simultaneously wanted to be far, far away from her and standing right there, touching even closer forever. It should’ve been impossible to at once feel like she was drowning and being pulled from the depths of the water. 

Ali looked Ashlyn up and down with interest, her eyes finally landing on the blow-up orca that was attached to Ashlyn’s arm. It was laying on its side. Ashlyn tugged the lead to right it. 

“So you are…” 

“I’m a dolphin trainer,” Ashlyn said. “I…um…couldn’t find a dolphin.” Ali laughed. 

“It is a nice costume,” she said. She reached into the bag on her arm and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. “Here,” she said, putting them on Ashlyn’s face, “to complete your look.” 

Ashlyn grinned back at her. 

The party was about as crazy as it could get with the camp-instituted ban on alcohol. It was probably for the best as Pinoe and Lori, the terrible two, were outrageous enough without any help. Kelley O’Hara and Mittsy were controlling the music, blasting tunes for everyone to dance to. The new college girls especially were having a good time. 

Ashlyn had been pretty popular at the start of everything as Ali and everyone else had asked her to show them all of Shammy’s tricks. She hammed it up for Aaron Heifetz, who was interviewing everyone about their costume choices. Christie was a queen, Ali went as a diva, Alex and a couple others matched in their ‘beach babes’ shirts. As people tapered off to dance or play cards with Barnie and Alyssa, however, she found herself at a table with a cup of punch and Shammy discarded on the seat next to her, wishing vaguely that the punch had been spiked. 

Alone, she had the space to remember what she had heard earlier. How she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t ready. She wondered at what Paul had mentioned about her reckless style. What “death wish” had he referred to? Alone, she also had the space to remember how she’d snapped at Whitney earlier as well, and then all the other times she’d done the same thing. She knew she had been unfair to Whit when she was only trying to protect Ashlyn, but she couldn’t bring herself to find her friend and apologize. She was sinking in too deep and found that her limbs were too heavy and tired to kick back out again. Ashlyn pulled out the sunglasses she’d hung from the collar of her shirt and twisted them around in her hands. They were large and rounded, women’s sunglasses and not really her style, but they screamed Ali Krieger. 

In the lenses, she caught a glimpse of her reflection. It was only a second, but it made Ashlyn pause again and wonder why exactly she’d been so quick to toss careless words in Whitney’s direction when she’d only ever been looking out for Ashlyn. Why she hadn’t just listened to the other goalkeepers’ advice in training. Why she’d had to tear her ACLs — one after the other. Guilt settled in the center of her chest. Usually, she would combat the feeling with a lighthearted distraction, but she couldn’t find the energy to join her teammates with a joke. 

“Whitney told me you’re the life of the party.” Ashlyn didn’t have to look up to recognize who was sitting next to her. The mumble was unmistakable, but so was her body language and her smell. Everything she did simply exuded Ali Krieger, all subtle confidence and soft expressions. 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Ashlyn replied, looking at her hands. Another hand, palm up, entered her vision and she finally looked up. 

“Come on,” Ali said. Ashlyn looked at her questioningly. “Come on,” she insisted. “Let’s go on a walk.” 

“I don’t feel like I’d be good company right now,” Ashlyn said. 

“Too bad,” Ali mumbled, “because everyone knows divas always get what they want and I want to go on a walk with you.” Ashlyn looked at her with exasperation but took Ali’s hand anyway and stood to follow her. 

They went back out to the beach, like they had that night after they ‘crashed’ that wedding reception. The salty sea breeze was cool and light and the movement of the ocean lulled Ashlyn into a calm only disrupted by the tremors that ran through her heart at the feeling of Ali’s hand in hers. She hadn’t made a motion to unlace their fingers, so Ashlyn let it be. They walked in silence a little ways before Ali stopped, looking out over the water. The lights glinted back at them, reflected in the crests of the waves like fallen stars. 

“So, something’s up,” Ali started. Ashlyn bristled and pulled her hand from Ali’s. The other girl sighed as she looked at her and nudged Ashlyn’s shoulder with her own to get them moving again. 

Ali led Ashlyn to a section of beach where the sand was even and dry and sat them down facing one another. They sat cross-legged like a pair of schoolchildren, simply looking at each other. The ocean, to Ashlyn’s right, kept time with its steady in and out.

Ali held out her hands, palms facing the sky in the space that separated their bodies. Ashlyn raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Come on, have you never played this game?” Ali asked. Ashlyn hovered her own hands over Ali’s, a few inches above. “Look at me,” Ali murmured quietly in a voice that made Ashlyn’s heart break and her hands long to close the distance and interlace with Ali’s. She obeyed, staring into Ali’s eyes, careful not to let her know how rapidly her heart was beating in her chest. 

Ashlyn couldn’t tell if Ali was purposefully trying to distract her with the way she pulled her top lip between her teeth in steely concentration. It was all Ashlyn could do to keep her eyes from drifting lower and her own lips from moving as well. She was growing antsy, simply looking at her like that and not moving and she could tell that Ali sensed it too as a lazy smile crept across her face. She quickly moved her hands to slap Ashlyn’s but the goalkeeper tucked them away in time. She raised her eyebrow at Ali again, a challenge. 

They started the game over. 

“I heard Paul and Dawn and Pia talking about me by mistake,” Ashlyn admitted after the third round. 

“What?” 

“You wanted to know why I was upset,” Ashlyn replied, still looking into Ali’s eyes. She could see herself in her irises, small and warped. Ashlyn blinked to refocus and moved to slap Ali’s hands. She missed. 

“What did they say?” They reversed positions. 

“Paul thinks I have a death-wish, I take too many risks, and I am unreliable,” Ashlyn replied with a sigh. “I’ve been with the national team since I was fourteen and I still don’t have a senior cap…and now I might never get one.” 

“You can’t give up that easily,” Ali protested, shaking her head. “This is just one camp. Players fall in and out of favor all the time. I should know; I’m one of those. The only thing you can do is play your hardest and hope it makes enough of an impression to get called back to camp.” 

“And if that never happens?” 

Ali looked reflective for a moment before she answered. “Trust that you did all you could…be happy that you got a chance to play the game at all.” 

“It’s just that I had to go and get injured so much. It’s set me back,” Ashlyn muttered, more to herself than to Ali. 

“But, Ashlyn,” Ali said ardently, “you’ve made your comeback. Other athletes might have thrown in the towel, but you didn’t. You’re still here and still pushing. You can’t give up your fight after all that.” 

“It’s not so easy,” Ashlyn protested, letting a bit of a sneer slip through. She folded more into herself, tucking her legs closer to her chest. What did Ali know about this fight? What did she know about the pain that had wracked Ashlyn’s body as she struggled to make it through each and every training?

“I know.” Ashlyn looked at her, disbelieving. “Before the NCAA championship my junior year, I broke my leg.” Ashlyn let her face fall. Oh. “So, uh, that was good timing,” Ali said sarcastically. “And then healing from that didn’t go exactly right. I got all these blood clots — pulmonary embolisms — and I started having little heart attacks. Luckily, I happened to be dating a medical student because he told me to go to the hospital. The doctors said that if I’d gone to sleep that night, I might not’ve woken up ever again.”

Ashlyn stared at her with wide eyes. She couldn’t even imagine the fear Ali must’ve felt as she went through that, the crushing realization that she had been touching her fingers to death’s. She couldn’t imagine the strength needed to pull herself out of that and become, well, extraordinary. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashlyn mumbled. Ali shook her head. 

“I don’t want sympathy. I’m just saying, you can come back from a lot of bad shit if you really want it hard enough. But you have to put in the work.” Ashlyn nodded. 

“And, I suppose, I’m trying to say there’s a silver lining in all this bad stuff that happens. My brother, Kyle…he was doing really badly when all of this was going on. But when he heard that I’d almost…you know…died, he started to straighten out his life and get sober.”

“He was an addict?” 

“Alcohol, cocaine, meth… He had put a lot of bad into his body.” 

“My brother and my parents, too,” Ashlyn admitted. “My parents were especially bad…And I did…I mean, I tried…” Ashlyn tapered off, not really sure how to tell her what she’d done, what she’d felt to make her want to numb herself completely. It seemed weak to try to explain, especially to Ali Krieger who’d walked up to death’s door and spit in his face. Ali Krieger who came back so fiercely she was playing in the top team of the Bundesliga. How could she ever want to hear about the battles she had fought inside herself? How could she ever want to be saddled with that? 

“Is that why you don’t talk to them?” Ali asked quietly. Her dark eyes were trained on Ashlyn. Ashlyn nodded once and looked away. Her eyes traced the little hills of sand around them, the way the little granules dotted both their legs and feet. 

“They don’t want to hear from me,” Ashlyn said, equally as quietly. She let out a short laugh, derisive, and said, “You know when if feels like everyone and everything is against you? Like tonight…” Ashlyn shook her head and looked back up at Ali. 

Ashlyn’s breath caught in her throat as she noticed Ali lean in closer to her, felt the shadow of her palms against Ashlyn’s as she lowered them down. The sound of the waves stilled, disappeared. The ocean might’ve been a lake for all Ashlyn knew as Ali’s fingers curled into hers and held on tightly. Her hands were warm. Ashlyn knew that hers were trembling slightly. 

“I’m not against you,” Ali said in that mumble of hers. 

She leaned in closer. 

“If you looked around, I think you would see a lot more people care about you than you’ve ever probably realized, Ashlyn Harris,” Ali murmured to her. Her eyes burned into Ashlyn’s, dark pools of chocolate brown where she could catch the vaguest hint of her reflection. She wondered if the image she saw in there was what Ali saw as well. She looked so small. Ashlyn could hardly recognize herself. 

Ali leaned in closer and all Ashlyn could hear was the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears as Ali’s lips parted ever so slightly and Ashlyn’s eyes darted down to watch them. She leaned in closer, as if pulled on a string. First, their breath mingled, and then their lips. 

It was simultaneously the softest kiss and the most urgent kiss Ashlyn had ever felt. She could feel herself melting at the warmth of Ali’s lips on hers, soft and supple and faintly sweet. She was melting so quickly and so easily she felt she just had to hold onto something to feel that she was still real. Her hands squeezed Ali’s tighter, lacing their fingers together. As they nudged noses and swallowed each other’s gasping breaths, Ashlyn reached up a hand to cup her cheek and kissed her again.

Maybe it was the setting -- beautiful beach, ocean breeze, darkened sky. Maybe it was the tenderness of Ali's lips against hers, the soft breath, the slight trembling of her body. It didn't matter. Ashlyn was beginning to believe her. Ali tugged on Ashlyn's bottom lip gently and Ashlyn sighed against her. She could tell. She could feel it in her chest and in the charge of the space between them that Ali cared. 

When they pulled away finally, Ashlyn’s hand caressed Ali’s cheek before it fell to her lap again. They were breathing heavily, darkened eyes wide with surprise. Ali looked away first. Ashlyn wished that there was more light to see if she was blushing. It seemed so as she dropped her head and tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. 

Ashlyn's eyes followed the movement and a soft smile crept across her lips. Who would have thought that things would come to this? Ali Krieger. Ashlyn itched to reach towards her again, she was so suddenly flooded with excitement. 

“We should go inside,” Ashlyn said quietly. Even though she was uncertain it was the right thing to say, she knew they couldn’t just sit there like that, stuck in the aftermath of that one moment of bliss. Ali looked as if she had just been shocked. Her gaze shifted back to Ashlyn before darting around them like a cornered animal. Warily, Ashlyn reached out a hand to help her stand up. 

“Right,” Ali said abruptly, ignoring Ashlyn. She stood quickly, sending a spray of sand in Ashlyn’s direction that sent her into a fit of coughing. 

Ashlyn was still wiping sand from her mouth as she watched Ali hurry back down the beach looking for all the world as though she was being chased. Ashlyn couldn’t do anything but stare after her as she went, the feeling of Ali’s lips still lingering on hers, and the scent of her perfume still hanging in the air. 

Ashlyn's heart found itself in her stomach. 

Things had been so good, for just that moment of utter bliss. Of course Ali had to run. Of course Ashlyn wasn’t allowed to have anything nice, not really. Angry, she picked up a shell near her and lobbed it into the ocean watching as it sunk quickly into the water and was tossed around by the pull of the waves that seemed far more turbulent than she’d remembered from only a moment before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and thanks to all who have left reviews! Keep doing it! I love to hear what you think. 
> 
> Next chapter... things get hashed out.


	5. Breakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation.

Ashlyn didn’t see Ali when she finally made her way back to the party. She did a cursory look-around and then, not seeing the defender anywhere, decided that she should just go to bed and hope, magically, that everything would be ironed out in the morning.

As she arrived at the door to their room, Ashlyn hesitated slightly, wondering if Ali was already there. But as she opened the door she saw that the lights were out and the room was empty. Ashlyn changed into her old UNC shorts and a t-shirt and tucked herself into bed. In the dark, flashes of the day came back to her in vivid color. They kept replaying in her head, over and over, culminating with Ali’s horror-struck face and escape. 

Ashlyn only felt relief when her mind finally wore itself out and she drifted into an equally fraught sleep. 

The next day, she was awakened, feeling especially grumpy, by an unfamiliar alarm. Ashlyn rolled over to face Ali’s bed only to see a dirty-blonde head poke up out of the covers. Ashlyn sat up straight in her bed. 

“Whit? What are you doing here? Where’s Ali?” Ashlyn asked. Whit rubbed her eyes and turned her alarm off, yawning all the while. 

“She said she wanted to stay with HAO last night,” Whit said. “She looked pretty upset. Did something happen?” 

Ashlyn watched her lean in even closer, the inches between them simply evaporating. Everything about Ali was intoxicating, from her smell, to her beautifully windswept hair, to the way her eyes were shining. When their lips met, Ashlyn’s heart began to run on overdrive. 

The pang in Ashlyn’s chest contrasted strongly with such a sweet memory. Again, she saw Ali hurriedly standing, sand flying around her as she hurried away, leaving Ashlyn sitting on the beach by herself. 

From the other bed — Ali’s bed — Whit was still staring at Ashlyn. 

“She kissed me,” Ashlyn said quietly, her voice hoarse with pain. She saw Whit’s face contort with frustration and the ache deepened further. 

“Oh, shit,” Whit said emphatically. “Shit. This is…not going to blow over so easily.” She stood. “Really, Ashlyn? Your roommate? Camp hasn't even finished yet. You said you wouldn’t do anything.” 

“Did you even hear me, Whit? She kissed me. She initiated it…And then she fucking high-tailed it out of there like I was a fucking hag or something.” Ashlyn was standing as well, her pillow and half of her comforter making their way onto the floor. 

“Alright, well that doesn’t change the fact that that is actually the most inconvenient thing to happen,” Whitney said. “And didn’t I just say — ”

“She kissed me,” Ashlyn reiterated. “But I guess everything is still my fault. I can’t seem to do fucking anything right anyway.” She pushed past Whitney and went straight into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. The sound of the shower spray hitting the tile was a heavy, monotonous drone, like white noise. So Ashlyn stood there with her forehead resting on the cold shower door while her back was scalded bright red from the hot water. 

Ashlyn didn’t think it was possible to do in such close quarters, but Ali managed to avoid her for the entire day. That night, they’d even sat at opposite ends of the bench. Ali didn’t even glance at her when she was finally told to warm up and was subbed in to finish off the game in Mittsy’s stead. 

Out on the practice field, the coaches lobbed a number of different shots at each keeper, getting them to dive every which way, jump up to punch the ball over the crossbar, and catch the ball firmly between their gloves. Ashlyn threw herself into the air with abandon, the feeling of her body hitting the grass so much better than the hurt inside her. 

She met Paul’s gaze after a particularly acrobatic dive. She’d managed to get a hand to the ball and deflect it out of the net before her body had crumpled on her line. His eyes were narrowed. She shrugged it off as she got up quickly, pounding her gloves together. Alyssa stepped up and took the next shot. She waited for her turn to come again, pacing all the while. 

She and Ali had avoided each other all morning. At breakfast, Ashlyn’s cursory look-around told her that Ali wasn’t yet down there. She grabbed a cup of coffee and a couple bagels and didn’t stick around long enough to see if Ali would ever come down

As the trainers and coaches all called for a quick water break, Ashlyn saw Whitney jogging towards her, worry written clearly on her face. Ashlyn squirted water into her mouth from one of the bottles by the goal and reached out to offer the bottle to Whitney. 

“So I heard Krieger talking with HAO a bit during drills…” Whitney started as she reached for the bottle. Ashlyn swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling tight. 

“Oh…yeah?” she said. 

“Yeah, um, I know I shouldn’t get in the middle of this —” 

“Then don’t, Whitney,” Ashlyn said. She snatched the bottle out of Whitney’s hand and turned to head back to the goal. Ali’s words echoed in her head, now tainted with bitterness at what Ashlyn saw as a blatant lie. There was no way Ali could’ve been telling the truth if that was what she did afterwards. 

Ashlyn had assumed that she and Ali would be forced to see each other after that day’s training, but that wasn’t the case. They took separate vans back to the hotel, Ali had taken her sweet time chatting with Mittsy in the lobby, and then while Ashlyn was in the shower, HAO had been sent into the room to grab a few of Ali’s things. Ashlyn only knew because HAO had loudly announced her presence as a precaution. 

As she dried her hair, Ashlyn wondered if she should have listened to whatever Whitney had to say. She had no idea what Ali could possibly be telling HAO anyway. Ashlyn tried to bury her curiosity and hurt with anger…at herself, at Ali. How could she have allowed herself to grow to care so deeply for a girl who showed no indication of being gay…up until she had kissed Ashlyn of course. 

Anyway, it was easy to be angry with Ali. She was the one who started it all. She was the one who’d ran away. She was the one who was been insanely immature by devising crazy schemes to simply avoid being in Ashlyn’s presence. 

Ashlyn had dealt with heartbreak before, though she was loathe to call this instance that, even in her own head. Pulling on a fresh UNC t-shirt and Nike sweats, she resolved to forget about the defender. After all, camp would be over in a couple days and Ali would go back to Germany while Ashlyn was destined for an uneventful offseason back in Florida. When the next day went much the same way as the previous, Ashlyn wasn’t surprised. The day after that, and Ashlyn felt her anger grow an edge to it, a sharp glint in her eyes every time they found Ali in a room. 

Joke’s on Ali, Ashlyn thought to herself as the team meeting drew to a close. With all the business taken care of, the players were tasked with a team-building exercise…And they were paired up with their roommates. Across the room, Ali looked like she’d just seen a ghost. Color dropped out of cheeks and her eyes widened. Leaning her chair back on two legs, Ashlyn watched her with mild amusement. 

The players broke off into their pairs, Ashlyn heading over to Ali once she realized that the defender was resolutely remaining in her seat. Ashlyn plopped down next to her, wondering vaguely whether she had planned on keeping the harsh distance between them for the rest of camp. Anyway, her plan was ruined now. 

“Are you okay working with me, Ali?” Ashlyn asked, breaking the silence. Her voice dripped with sarcasm. Ali looked at her quickly before turning her gaze to the back of the chair in front of her again. 

“Yeah, of course,” she mumbled. Ashlyn rolled her eyes and looked away to catch the pack of cards that Dawn tossed in her direction. Each pair was given a pack and they were tasked with the challenge of building the most creative house of cards they could in five minutes.

As Dawn explained the rules of the competition, Ashlyn felt the box of cards being plucked from her hand. She turned to see Ali ripping through the plastic wrap around it and opening up the top. 

“What?” she said, noticing Ashlyn’s scrutiny. “I want to win, so we better be prepared for when they start the timer.” Ashlyn shook her head, watching as Ali took out the cards and began to spread them out between her hands, her eyes fixated on Dawn. 

The timer began and Ali’s eyes darted to Ash. “Come on,” she said, and pushed back her chair and the empty one next to it to create a nice, clear area for their house of cards. Ashlyn, who had never attempted to build one in her entire life, was content to let Ali take charge for at least a little while. She pushed away her own chair and joined Ali on the floor. 

Ali bit her lip in thought as she looked first at the cards in her hand and then at the empty space between her and Ashlyn. 

“What are you thinking?” Ashlyn pressed. “You’ve got to let me know or I can’t help.” 

“A castle, I think,” Ali said. “Four towers and something in the middle.” 

“Okay,” Ashlyn said. Wordlessly, Ali split the deck and passed Ashlyn half of it. 

Ashlyn stared at the cards in her hand and decided her best bet was to watch what Ali was doing and then follow her lead. The defender had her head down, picking out cards and building what was going to become the base of a tower — two cards on their sides, a card on top, two cards positioned in the opposite direction, another card on top. Easy enough, Ashlyn though, and began to start on her towers. 

With the time half gone, they’d finished their towers easily and found themselves looking at the remaining cards, stumped. Ali was moving little things, repositioning cards, but they still only had four towers with nothing connecting them. Sure, they’d built something, but it wasn’t a real structure and Ashlyn still had no idea what Ali wanted. She scoffed out loud at that, thinking back to Ali’s excellent display of juvenile tactics. 

“What?” Ali asked, her eyes narrowed. 

“You’re so bad at communication,” Ashlyn replied, shaking her head with resignation. “We’re never going to be able to finish this thing if we don’t start to actually talk. I’m fine following your lead, but you have to tell me what you want.” Ali stared back at her, affronted, and Ashlyn sighed heavily again. 

“Okay,” she said. “Here, let’s do a ring around the bottom to connect all the towers — look, save one of each of the royals. We can put them in the castle, you know, as the actual king and queen.” 

To Ashlyn’s surprise, Ali actually listened without causing a fuss. After connecting their towers and standing up the king, queen, and joker of hearts inside, they still had a few cards left to create large palace doors. They sat back, careful to not jostle their creation as the last few seconds ran out. The timer sounded loudly and Ashlyn grinned easily at Ali. Ali looked back at her but finally relented and let a proud smile show. 

“Another minute, just one more!” Kelley was pleading from behind them. She and Tobin were freaking out about their half-destroyed card creation. It was difficult to even see that there had been anything there in the first place. Ali hid her laughter behind her hand, but couldn’t help breaking out in giggles as she and Ashlyn met eyes again. 

As it turned out, they didn’t win the competition. That honor went to Rachel and Barnie and their extremely structurally-sound playing card tribute to Stanford. Ashlyn and Ali’s castle got an honorable mention for clever use of the royals, as did Christie and Boxxy’s neighborhood of houses. Pinoe and Lori argued that theirs should’ve gotten an award, but they’d only put together a messy pile of cards they called “abstract art”. 

“Come on, this could be in a museum!” Pinoe cried, pointing at the pile. Next to it, Lori rolled backwards with laughter. 

“Give it up, Pin,” Ashlyn called back, standing. “You’re just jealous you can’t get on this level.” She pointed proudly at the castle. Pinoe stuck her tongue out in Ashlyn’s direction in response and the two cracked up. 

Everyone went around snapping pictures of their favorite card creations before they all packed them away in the packs. Dawn waved them off as they tried to return the packs to her, saying that they could use them to keep themselves occupied and out of trouble that night. 

“Double deck ‘Hearts’?” Alyssa suggested to Barnie and Rachel as the team members began to file out of the room. She looked around to find a group to play with, nabbing Alex, Kelley, Tobin, and Amy quickly. 

“So…” Ashlyn started. She and Ali walked out of the conference room together and were heading towards the elevators, but Ashlyn didn’t know exactly when Ali was planning on escaping to the safety of HAO’s company again. “Are we ever going to talk about what happened?” 

“Can you wait until we’re up in the room?” Ali hissed. Ashlyn held up her hands in surrender and followed Ali and a group of other teammates into an elevator in silence. Ali looked tense the entire time, arms wrapped around herself as though for warmth, staring straight at the spot where the two doors met. As soon as they opened, Ali let out a breath and strode from the metal box quickly. 

Ashlyn shut the door behind them softly and turned to see Ali sitting on her bed, facing Ashlyn. After the short period of separation, it seemed a little strange to see Ali there. Ashlyn buried her hands in her pockets, simply waiting for Ali to talk. She was silent. 

“Did you want to explain?” Ashlyn pushed after awhile. 

“I don’t know what to say, really.” 

“You can always start with an apology for being pretty shitty these past couple days.” 

“Right…” Ali blushed. “I’m sorry for ignoring you and forcing Whitney to switch rooms with me.” Ashlyn raised an eyebrow at Ali. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ali’s eyes widened and she shrunk back as Ashlyn strode further in the room. Her blood was racing. Control. “I mean, yeah, it was pretty childish for you to ignore me for two days after running away from me. Like, I haven’t experienced that shit since high school. But do you even remember what you said to me before you kissed me?” 

Ashlyn’s anger only grew more pronounced as she saw Ali flinch at the mention of the kiss. She was resolutely looking at her sneakers, her brow furrowed as though she was about to cry. Worked up as she was, the image hardly did anything to Ashlyn.

“I told you that people care about you,” Ali murmured. Her voice was so soft, Ashlyn almost didn’t catch her 

“Yeah,” Ashlyn said resignedly. She nodded in acknowledgment and sat down on her bed, facing Ali. As her pounding blood slowed, the aching set in again. Burrowed there deep in her chest, it was difficult to hide it for too long. She pulled a pillow into her lap and wrapped her arms around it, as though it were a satisfactory replacement for a real body, and waited to see if Ali would continue. 

“Why’d you leave?” Ashlyn asked, finding that she could no longer sit in the silence. “I didn’t expect us to magically be together — and I still don’t — but I thought we at least had…I don’t know, a connection? An understanding?” 

“I’m straight,” Ali blurted out. Ashlyn recoiled as though slapped. Then she let out a breath and nodded, not meeting Ali’s eyes. Of course she knew that that was a distinct possibility, but the admission still seemed like another betrayal. After what she remembered as such an intimate conversation, the gentle touches, the looks, the way Ali seemed to draw her in with her kiss, Ashlyn couldn’t help but resent Ali’s confession. 

“That came out wrong…” she heard Ali mutter to herself. She said something in German under her breath that sounded to Ashlyn like a curse. In spite of herself, Ashlyn leaned forward with interest. She had never heard Ali speak German before — hadn’t even realized that she could — and she thought it was…cute…in a way that the language was never stereotypically said to be. 

“I, um, I talked to HAO about what happened…and everything I’d been feeling. I don’t know what to tell you, Ashlyn, other than that I am so confused. I thought it would be better if I stayed away from you while I was trying to figure it out, but I know that that hurt you.” 

Ashlyn’s eyes widened. She watched as Ali let out a shaky breath. Her face was a little red and her eyes were growing bright with unshed tears. Conflicted, Ashlyn gripped the pillow tighter, trying to keep herself from reaching out to Ali. 

“Did you…” Ashlyn cleared her throat, noticing how strained she sounded. “Did you figure anything out?” 

“I don’t know. I really like you, Ash. I just have never felt this way about a girl before.” 

Ashlyn felt her heart jolt a little. So Ali did like her. At least that was something. Still, she didn’t know what Ali wanted. The girl was a mystery. 

“Did you really want to kiss me back there?” The question left Ashlyn’s lips before she could even think about it. 

“I still want to kiss you.” 

“Ali…” Ashlyn breathed. Unbidden, her heart began to stutter and thump again. Blood rushed for an entirely different reason. Her voice had been so soft, like a caress. It made Ashlyn want to respond in kind, the space between them far too great. She wondered vaguely what the rest of Ali felt like. Ashlyn swallowed thickly and looked into Ali’s eyes. She seemed earnest, but Ashlyn could see the fear there and wondered how she could ever make that disappear. And, lord, did she want it to disappear. 

“And I don’t understand why,” Ali choked out. “It all happened so fast. You were here and so, so…you. And I kept wanting —”

The last of Ashlyn’s anger faded out of her as the first of Ali’s tears slipped down her cheeks. Once again, the turbulence inside her was calmed with Ali’s presence. Ashlyn threw the pillow back towards the head of the bed and slipped off to kneel beside Ali’s legs. 

“Hey,” Ashlyn whispered to her, as Ali’s head dropped to rest in a hand. Ashlyn reached for her free hand. She was the one slightly trembling this time, Ashlyn noted, as she turned Ali’s hand over in hers. Her nails were painted bright pink. Ashlyn smiled at the color. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” she repeated. Ali wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand, trying to hide her face at the same time. Ashlyn decided that there was only one course of action. Shifting over on her knees, Ashlyn ducked her head so that she was in Ali’s line of sight and said, “You know, I thought you were supposed to be comforting me…Rude!”

Ali let out a watery laugh and Ashlyn knew that she was slowly bringing her back to a better place. Ashlyn sat back on her heels and waited, trying to be as patient as possible, as Ali dried the last of her tears and took a few long, calming breaths. 

“My mascara must be horrible right now,” she mumbled. Ashlyn looked but, besides some slight smudging, she couldn’t find anything wrong with Ali’s makeup. 

“Nah,” she said in disagreement. “You’re fine. You’re beautiful.” Ali smiled bashfully, her eyes finding their intertwined fingers. 

“Ali,” Ashlyn started, taking a deep breath so that she could figure out exactly what she wanted to say. “I know you’re confused right now, but I don’t want you to ever be afraid of what you’re feeling. Lo —” Ashlyn stopped, reigned herself in, and started again.“Attraction isn’t always dictated by gender, and that’s okay. That’s something that you’ll have to explore and figure out.”

“Is that something I can figure out with you?” 

That was the question. Ashlyn wanted to say yes without reservation. After all, what else had she wanted to get out of confronting Ali? Still, she knew that that was perhaps not the wisest choice. She had dated ‘confused girls’ before. Everyone had their share of stories from dating ‘straight girls’, none of which had ended prettily. 

“Ali, this camp will be over soon and you’ll eventually go back to Germany.” 

“I know,” she sighed. “I don’t want to lose you, Ash. I’m confused and a little bit scared, but I do know that I want to be near you. I want to try this.” 

Ashlyn smiled wryly. If only Ali wouldn’t be a literal ocean away. “How about we try being friends first,” she suggested. “We can call and Skype and, whenever you find yourself in the states again, I want to take you on a date.” 

“I’d like that,” Ali replied. 

As they both got ready for bed, the two danced around each other like a pair of giddy teenagers. Ali snuck peeks at Ashlyn as they changed, but Ashlyn only knew because she was doing the same. They jostled elbows at the sink while they brushed their teeth, nearly choking on minty foam and their toothbrushes multiple times through the process. Cleaned up for the night, they made their way to their separate beds, Ashlyn stretching her beat-up shoulders, Ali with her head over her constantly dinging phone. 

“Boyfriend?” Ashlyn teased as she literally jumped into bed. She kicked her legs out to stuff them under the covers. 

“You’re hilarious,” Ali replied mockingly as she typed out a message on her phone. “No, um HAO wanted to know if I was going to stay in her room tonight.” 

“You know, if you really can’t keep your hands off of me, you and Whit can switch again. I won’t be offended.” Ali gasped and lobbed one of her pillows at Ashlyn, hitting her square in the face. 

“I cannot believe I told you I liked you. Obviously it was the wrong choice.” Huffing to herself at the injustice of the situation, Ali folded back the covers of her bed and situated herself under them methodically. Smoothing down the top of her comforter, Ali turned to face the opposite direction of Ashlyn and reached over to turn out the light. 

Laying in the dark, Ashlyn held on to Ali’s pillow, staring at the ceiling with what she knew was an insane grin plastered on her face. The pillow didn’t smell like Ali at all, but she held it anyway. 

“Goodnight, Princess,” she said into the darkness. 

“Goodnight, Ash,” Ali replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, everyone! Keep them coming! I hope you liked the chapter. 
> 
> More will come soon -- the next camp, thanksgiving, a weird dream, and a giving in of sorts.


	6. Currents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of camp, but another one comes around. And, with it, things change.

The qualifying tournament ended with a heartbreak and bitterness was felt throughout all the call-ups, regardless of minutes. Pia had given them all a very serious talk — the ‘I’m very disappointed in you’ talk — and had sent them on their way with the knowledge that, if they didn’t beat Italy in the two-game series that would be held later in the month, their World Cup dreams will have stopped before they ever began and it would be the single most embarrassing defeat in US Women’s Soccer history. 

“Pia’s right,” Mittsy said, after the night’s talk. They’d played well against Costa Rica, but the win had done nothing but cement how disappointed everyone was in themselves. They, the number one team in the world, should’ve bested the other CONCACAF qualifying hopefuls like it was child’s play. Instead, they were walking away as the third place contenders, fighting for the last spot in the pool. 

“I got flashbacks to my mom’s serious talks,” HAO agreed. She shuddered at the thought. “Definitely not what I needed tonight.” 

A large group of girls were gathered in Lori and Pinoe’s room to watch TV and relax before everyone headed back home the next morning. Ashlyn was laying on Pinoe’s bed mindlessly watching the movie they’d put on in the background while everyone talked. 

“Hey, Krieger,” Lori said as the door to the room opened. Ashlyn looked over immediately to see Ali standing in the doorway. “Where have you been?” 

“Alex, Kelley, and Tobin dragged me into a game of Monopoly,” Ali said. “You wouldn’t believe how competitive they get with it. Tobin was out for blood!” 

“She makes me go bankrupt every time,” Mittsy commented. 

“That’s because you don’t know how to handle money anyway,” Lori teased with a smirk. A pillow flew across the room in her direction. 

Tucking a strand of wavy brown hair behind her ear, Ali stepped around her teammates sprawled on the cream carpet and made her way towards Ashlyn. 

“Hey,” she said. 

“Hey,” Ashlyn replied. A smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she watched Ali carefully. She scooted over to let Ali join her on the bed. The defender crawled on slowly, arranging herself so that she was lying on her side facing Ashlyn. Ashlyn watched as the room faded away around her. Even the others’ voices got fainter, she was so enraptured. 

“So…there’s another camp coming up this month,” Ali started. Her voice was soft and, with her mumble, Ashlyn had to watch her closely to interpret what she’d said. That meant a lot of staring at her lips. Ashlyn wiped her palm on her shorts, suddenly sweaty. 

“You know what they think of me,” Ashlyn replied. “I don’t think you should hold out on me getting the call again.” 

“I don’t know about that…” Ali was looking at her with that expression again — the one that Ashlyn still couldn’t quite figure out. It was soft and piercing at the same time, like she was seeing right through Ashlyn but, in a way, Ashlyn didn’t care. 

“Krieger!” The moment was broken as, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pillow fly up and smack Ali in the butt. It was Pinoe, of course. Ali yelped and turned quickly, nearly falling off the bed in the process. 

“Say ‘time’ in German again,” Lori ordered. She and Pinoe wore matching grins, staring up at her and just waiting. 

“What, like with that stupid accent?” Ali asked. They nodded, in sync, like strange spiky-haired twins. Ali sighed and rolled her eyes but sat up on her knees and, puffing out her chest like she was about to lift something incredibly heavy, uttered “TIME!” in a harsh, guttural German accent. 

Lori and Pinoe cracked up immediately, turning to one another and mimicking Ali. Ashlyn chuckled from where she lay, watching Ali with wonder and curiosity. It was then she decided for sure that she didn’t want to lose contact with the defender either. Maybe this would hurt. Maybe it was doomed to end badly, but she knew that she was already in too deep and she no longer cared if she was only setting herself up for more imminent pain. 

Not even a week later, Ashlyn got an email from US Soccer. She had just gotten back from the gym and was sweating profusely when she saw the notification. There it sat, ready to gift her either heartbreak or a second chance — one she didn’t think she deserved but desperately wanted. She stared at it for a long time before deciding to shower first, open it later. 

When she was clean and changed, damp hair hanging on her shoulders, she was greeted with another notification on her laptop. A certain right back was calling her from Germany. She grinned wryly and answered, smiling as Ali’s face came into slightly-pixelated focus. She was smiling with her tongue between her teeth. 

“Did you open yours?” Ali asked immediately. 

“Hello to you, too,” Ashlyn mumbled in return. Ali only rolled her eyes. 

“Come on and open it, Ash. Come on. I believe in you.” Ashlyn sighed and reopened her email account, staring contemplatively at the email. 

In the days since camp had ended, Ashlyn and Ali had kept in contact like it was their job. Not a day went by when they weren't texting and they Skyped when they could, a feat that proved to be quite impressive with the time change and added difficulties of Ali’s training schedule. Even when they missed each other, replying to a series of hours-old texts because they had come too early in the morning or too late at night, Ashlyn felt comfort just seeing Ali’s name pop up on her phone. 

Ashlyn clicked on it and read as quickly as she could. The letters on the screen blurred together and, trying to mask her frustration, she simply scrolled down to see it there was a travel itinerary attached. She looked up and returned to the Skype call so that she could see Ali’s face. 

“I’ve never been to Italy before,” she said and immediately backed away from the laptop as Ali let out an excited scream. “Stop, you’re going to get evicted from your apartment,” Ashlyn laughed. Inside, she was glowing. It wouldn’t be long until they saw each other again. Ashlyn let herself believe that the distance really wouldn’t be hard — that this weird middle place they occupied was just fine. 

The tone in Italy was a lot more serious than it had been in Mexico. For one thing, instead of sunny days and the lure of the beach nearby, Padova was cold and dry and, in the morning, there was a layer of fog that made the field look like a wasteland from some dystopian fiction. For another thing, everyone knew that they had to beat Italy — no ifs, ands, or buts about it. And so they put themselves on the grind. 

First training was right after everyone had settled in at the hotel. They had a little time to unpack before they all had to be changed and ready to go. Vans were provided to shuttle all the players to the practice field where they disembarked, Ashlyn hopping from one foot to the other as she shuddered against the cold. It was late afternoon and the sun was already fading away. Decked out in sweats, a thermal top, and a hat, she still wasn’t comfortable. 

“Aww, are you cold?” Ashlyn glared at Ali out of the corner of her eye. Ali was wearing a long sleeve as well, but she was still in shorts, her socks pulled up to her knees, as was her usual style. “In Germany it gets way colder.” 

Despite the cold, and despite her bidding, Ashlyn’s heart stuttered a beat and surged on at an increased rate and all Ali had done was stand there. Still, Ashlyn couldn’t help it that her eyes were drawn to the crinkle in Ali’s nose and the cute way she stood, feet shoulder width apart, one hand gripping the opposite wrist behind her back. In quick succession, her eyes discovered all these little things, and her brain processed them into her memory. 

“Well I’m from Florida,” Ashlyn ground out, hoping that the cold had reddened her cheeks enough to hide her reaction to Ali. She started her own warmups as the field was still being set up, needing to get her blood flowing as soon as possible. 

Back in the hotel, they had a short break for showers before a team meeting. Pia, Dawn, Paul, and Jill each said their bits, reminding everyone how important the next two games would be — firstly, to get into the World Cup and, secondly, as a chance to assess which players would be going. There was only two more days before the game, and they would have to work hard to be ready for Italy, a team that everyone knew would be coming at them with everything they had. 

“Training after that plane ride from hell,” Pinoe groaned. “My body no like-y.” 

“You know, I love kids, but I just really wanted to duct tape that one’s mouth shut,” Mittsy said. The others nodded their agreement, vocalizing little “right”s and “mhmm”s. 

They had all decided to congregate in the suite room on the floor that had been set aside for watching film and as a place for all the players to relax. A game of Chinese checkers was going on — an intense showdown between Stephanie, Lindsay, and Amy while the strategies of the other players had already ensured their defeat. Alex, Leslie, and Mittsy were all watching some drama with bated breath, and the rest were hanging out on the couches on their phones or talking. 

Ali had dragged Ashlyn into a game of rummy earlier, which had then multiplied into an entire tournament (which Ali was crushing at) but, as much as Ashlyn wanted to spend time with Ali, her body was betraying her. She felt another yawn coming on and ducked her head to hide it in the sleeve of her hoodie. Ashlyn caught Ali staring at her, an occurrence that had happened a good handful of times since they’d been reunited in person and something that never failed to make Ashlyn smile. 

“What?” she questioned. “Not everyone had a cushy flight from Germany, hardly any time change, no crying babies on their flight.” Ali grinned and stuck her tongue out in response. Her expression dropped soon after, however, and her hands stilled at shuffling the cards. 

“Do you…want to go someplace quieter?” she murmured softly, motioning to the door of the suite with her eyes. Ashlyn traced their path with her own and let her gaze fall back on Ali. She looked small, hesitant in that moment. 

“Yeah,” Ashlyn agreed. “We could go back to my room and talk?” 

Ali nodded and pushed the deck of cards back in the box. Ashlyn wondered if it was the same deck they’d used to build their castle. She stood and offered her hands out to help Ali up. The combined force of Ashlyn pulling and Ali pushing sent Ali hurtling into Ashlyn’s chest. They touched, nearly knocking heads, and Ashlyn let out an anxious breath. Their hands already wrapped in each others’, Ashlyn felt her body tingle with the urge to steady Ali with a touch on her waist, to touch the small of her back, to run her fingers down her arm…

Ali looked up at Ashlyn and let out a breathy laugh as well. She pulled her hands from Ashlyn’s, only to correct her balance with a soft touch to Ashlyn’s stomach. She immediately felt her body tighten. Looking into Ali’s eyes, she could feel that the space between them was charged, like the sky before a thunderstorm. It was something new and exciting and entirely different from their casual game of cards. 

Ashlyn needed to be out of that room. 

The door shut behind them with a soft click. Ashlyn watched as Ali settled herself on Ashlyn’s bed, resting against the headboard comfortably. Ashlyn sauntered further into the room slowly, and suddenly she was back in Cancun and they were fighting and Ashlyn was trying to understand how someone could go from saying such beautiful things to her to running away in a matter of minutes. 

She blinked. The Ali on this bed in this hotel in Italy seemed different. Maybe it was the tension that buzzed between them earlier, maybe it was the air of contentedness that Ali seemed to give off in waves as she looked at Ashlyn. Maybe it was her intuition and the feeling that something entirely different was going to happen this camp. 

“I missed seeing you in person,” Ali started. 

“It’s been like a week,” Ashlyn replied teasingly. Ali flushed, but she didn’t seem to back down. 

“Still,” she insisted. “It’s not the same as talking face-to-face.” She patted the spot next to her on the bed. Ashlyn chose to sit in front of her instead. Ali pulled her legs in to sit criss-cross and Ashlyn did the same. The beach. Hands out, they stared into each others’ eyes. The air was warm and growing ever warmer. Ali leaned in. Warmer. 

In the hotel, there were only white sheets and the sound of the heating in the background. Outside, there was a faint whistle of the wind. Ali still stared at her. 

“What are you thinking?” Ashlyn said, her voice low. 

“Cancun,” Ali replied. 

From the way her eyes danced between their mirrored positions, Ashlyn knew that she was picturing the same thing. Ashlyn took note of the changes in her heart rate, the way her body responded to simply thinking about kissing Ali again, and was astounded by how little choice she actually had over what her body did. 

Moving closer was instinctual, like her body knew what to do before her brain could even make the decision. Kissing her was more of the same. Her brain lagged behind, picking up pieces and details and savoring them, storing them for later. Ashlyn only felt, and it felt good. 

Ashlyn could feel her smiling against her lips, hands skimming along the skin of her neck before burying themselves in her hair. Ali tugged lightly, pulling Ashlyn closer to her. She suspended herself across the gap that had existed between them, hands cupping Ali’s face, reveling in the feel of her soft skin, the way she felt so warm. If she was being entirely honest with herself, Ashlyn couldn’t deny imagining another kiss with Ali Krieger. She couldn’t deny imagining much more than that. But nothing was better than the real thing. 

Ali gasped into Ashlyn’s mouth as Ashlyn nipped at her bottom lip. Grinning internally at the sound, Ashlyn ran her tongue over the area to soothe it, sweeping it inside her mouth tentatively to truly taste her. They shared a couple languid, open-mouthed kisses before Ashlyn started to pull away. They bumped noses and touched foreheads and neither released their grips on the other. 

Her breathing still heavy, voice low and wanting, Ali asked, “Why did you stop?” 

“My legs and abs are burning,” Ashlyn admitted, laughing at herself quietly. Ali joined in as she noticed the stance Ashlyn had had to adopt in order to reach her. 

“We can call this extra conditioning, then,” Ali teased. Ashlyn gulped at the sound of her voice like that, utterly entranced. Ali slid her hands down to Ashlyn’s shoulders and tugged her forward. Ashlyn dropped herself on her stomach and rolled over so that she was on her side facing Ali who scooted down so that they were staring into each others’ eyes again. 

For a moment, it was peaceful. The pair of them rested their heads on the fluffy pillows, hair mussed, lips red and plump. Ali’s eyes looked darker than before. She bridged the short, short distance between them to run her fingers against Ashlyn’s. Looking down at them, Ashlyn hated to interrupt the peace, but she knew that she had to. 

“Did you figure anything out?” she asked, her voice equally low as Ali’s. The defender let out a sigh, her eyes still focused on the way their fingers danced around each other, each light caress sending warmth up Ashlyn’s arm. 

“I don’t know who I am…what I am…” Ali said. “But I don’t think that I care. I don’t know what it means, exactly, but I know that I like you, Ashlyn Harris. I care about you so much.” 

Ashlyn’s heart pounded furiously. 

“I feel the same way,” she replied softly. Ali’s eyes shot up to look at her. “And Ali, I don’t think that you liking me changes who you are. You’re still you.” 

The look in her eyes told Ashlyn that Ali didn’t really believe her, but Ashlyn didn’t want to push it just yet. Instead, she reached up to brush a stray piece of hair from Ali’s cheek and rest her hand on the defender’s waist. Her thumb caressed her side lightly. 

“So, what does this mean?” Ali asked the real question. “What is this we’re doing?” 

“You’re going back to Germany once the Italy games are over.” Ali nodded. “I’m going back to Florida.” She took a deep breath and bit her lip contemplatively. 

“There will be other camps,” Ali suggested, “And I’ll come back to the states to visit family.” 

“So are we just an ‘in-camp’ thing? Are we just a ‘whenever-we’re-in-the-same-country’ thing?” Ali blushed and looked away. 

“I have to admit I don’t like the idea of you seeing anyone else while we’re apart.” That was Ali. 

“I have to admit that I agree.” That was Ashlyn. “Just…Ali, if we do this, don’t run from me again, okay?” 

“Okay,” Ali said with a smile. “Okay, I promise.” 

Ashlyn grinned in return and leaned in to kiss her again. They hadn’t put a name to it — whatever this was — but Ashlyn felt content knowing that they didn’t intend to see anyone but each other. She knew that there were details missing, but the fear of the distance that threatened to separate the two of them melted in her touch and the way her lips moved against Ashlyn’s and the soft little sounds that she drew out of the back of her throat. 

“Well damn.” 

Ashlyn pulled away from Ali immediately, heart pounding for another reason. Beside her, Ali nearly fell trying to distance herself from Ashlyn. Neither looked at the other, instead sheepishly wiping saliva from their lips and glancing up at the figure of Abby Wambach, still holding the door open. As she pulled out of her stunned stupor, she slammed the door behind her swiftly to provide some more privacy and looked back at the pair. 

Ashlyn shifted her startled gaze from Abby back to Ali. Body rigid with tension, Ali stared past Abby, her eyes burning holes in the door. Ashlyn wondered if she really would run again. Her heart sank. Please don’t, Ali, played on loop in Ashlyn’s head, a silent prayer that she wouldn’t be watching Ali run from her yet again. 

“Abby, look, this is a new thing and we aren’t looking to get in trouble — ”

“Calm down, Harris,” Abby cut her off with a little smirk. “I won’t turn you in. I just came to get my charger and sweatshirt.” She crossed the room, past Ali who still hadn’t moved a muscle, and Ashlyn, who was fidgeting anxiously. Abby rummaged through her bag, pulling out a tangle of chords and sorting through it with pure concentration written on her face. Finally successful, she draped the chord across her shoulders and pulled out an old grey hoodie. 

“Honestly, I’m surprised you bat for our team, Krieger,” Abby commented. “My gaydar must be off.” She turned back towards Ali, laughing a little, but the defender was still stone-faced. 

“Hey, you okay?” She reached out to clap a hand on Ali’s shoulder. “Kriegs, you’re fine. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before and Pia really won’t care as long as you guys remain professional on the field.” No response. Abby looked over to meet Ashlyn’s worried gaze. She shrugged. 

“Alright, you should get going,” Ashlyn said quietly. She walked with Abby towards the door. “Please don’t mention anything,” she whispered as she and Abby stepped outside. “She…I don’t even know where her head is at anymore,” Ashlyn sighed, shaking her head. 

“You and me are having a serious talk tonight,” Abby promised.

When Ashlyn stepped back into the room, shutting the door softly behind her, Ali was still standing there. Ashlyn took a deep breath and walked towards her slowly, carefully, as though she was a cornered wild animal. She reached out a hand and caressed Ali’s forearm, running her thumb down the stylized script. Love. When Ali moved to clasp her hand with Ashlyn’s, she felt like she could finally take a deep breath again. 

“I’m sorry that happened,” Ashlyn said.

“It’s not your fault,” Ali replied. “I just…wasn’t ready for anyone to…” She blushed. “I know people know — Whitney, HAO — but I guess I’m not ready for something like that.” 

“No one is,” Ashlyn replied with an encouraging smile. “Have you ever wanted to be walked-in on?” That got Ali to smile a little. It was just a little smirk. 

“No,” she said. She was looking straight at Ashlyn again, meeting her eyes. Ashlyn could visibly see the muscles in her body relaxing. Ali took a step closer and let their bodies brush one another faintly before she leaned in to rest against Ashlyn’s side. Ashlyn eagerly reached out to pull her even closer, resting her head on Ali’s. 

“You know the one good thing that came out of this?” Ashlyn asked. Ali’s reply was murmured into Ashlyn’s shirt. She could feel the rumble of the interrogative in her chest. “Abby knows to ask before entering now.” 

Ashlyn kissed Ali goodnight softly as it neared curfew time. They’d spent the past couple hours simply cuddling together on Ashlyn’s bed watching whatever was on TV (Ali stopped flipping channels at a real crime show, to Ashlyn’s surprise, but what it lacked in romantic vibe, it made up with in intrigue). In between voicing their complex (and in Ashlyn’s case downright harebrained) hypotheses about the cases, they would lean over to press a kiss to a temple or cheek or run a hand down a side, happy to just be there and touch and surreptitiously search for each other’s ticklish spots. 

Neither of them really wanted to separate. Ali groaned as she forced herself up and out from under the covers, her hair beautifully mussed and her eyes drooping with sleepiness. 

“I was so warm and comfy,” she had pouted cutely. Ashlyn had laughed and rewarded her adorableness with a tender kiss. 

Laying back on her bed again, feeling small and lost without Ali’s presence to warm her, Ashlyn looked up as the door to the room opened again. In walked Abby, who made quite the show of looking around from behind her hands before walking in. It didn’t take long for Abby to get ready for bed and, once the star forward was comfortably tucked under the covers, it didn’t take long for the questions to begin either.

“Alright, talk to me, Harris,” she said seriously, propping herself up on her elbow. Ashlyn turned on her side as well, tucking the pillow Ali had used under her arm. It smelled faintly like her shampoo. “When did this all start?” 

“Cancun,” Ashlyn said. “We were flirting from the beginning. Well, I was. She was too, but I don’t know if she meant to. Anyway, we were on the beach Halloween night and she kissed me, ran for it, and we didn’t talk for a few days, only made up just before camp ended.” 

“Straight girls,” Abby commented, rolling her eyes. Normally, Ashlyn would’ve agreed wholeheartedly. She had quite the collection of ‘straight girl’ jokes saved up for moments like this one, but she didn’t feel like joking around. 

“I don’t know, Abby,” Ashlyn said. “Ali hasn’t explained everything she’s thinking and feeling to me, but I’m worried she doesn’t like herself right now. She told me she’s attracted to me, but I don’t think she’s comfortable with that yet.” 

“I guess you have to be patient,” Abby said. “I mean, she’s going through all the confusing puberty-age stuff except just right now.” Ashlyn made a face, thinking back to her high school days — ages of keeping her head down in the locker room for fear of giving herself away with a lingering look, ages of skirts and nail polish, and even a fancy prom dress and crown. 

“I just hope she can learn to accept this part of her,” Ashlyn says. “When we were just here, hanging out, she seemed fine, but mention anything about actually being attracted to girls and she shuts down.” 

“Help her accept herself,” Abby said. “If you care about her, help her care about herself too.” 

Travel days with the whole team were a mix of disorganization, hilarity, annoyance, and just a dash of chaos. Luggage was hauled down the team’s floor and piled into elevators along with as many players as could fit. Pinoe commented off-handedly that they may have been surpassing weight restrictions as the elevator groaned and Ali groaned as well, shutting her eyes tightly. 

“Don’t say that, Pinoe! I’m already freaking out.” Ashlyn shuffled closer to her as best she could amongst all the bags. 

“You okay?” she murmured. 

“Elevators freak me out, especially when they make — ” The elevator came to a stop with a little jolt and a harsh groan. “Noise,” Ali finished with a squeak. Ashlyn wished she could pull Ali into her arms, but decided against it in the presence of so many of their teammates. 

“Well, we made it out anyway, Princess,” Ashlyn commented. Ali opened her eyes, only to shoot Ashlyn the stink-eye, picking up her bags and high-tailing it out of the horrible metal box. 

With the last-minute, definitely unplanned trip to Italy, their plane tickets were spread out across the economy class seating. A handful in the front, a handful in the back, random pairs and rows of seats in the middle. And the ticket assignments were entirely randomized. Ashlyn ended up being directed towards the back of the plane along with Becky and Amy before she could even think to trade for a ticket nearer Ali. She’d had a dream of sorts of falling asleep next to her as they watched an in-flight movie together, sharing one set of headphones. That was all foiled now, though. 

As Ashlyn reached up to stow her carry-on in the overhead compartment, she heard Abby calling out to her. 

“Harris,” she said. “You’re heading up there.” She motioned a thumb to the section behind her and handed a ticket to Ashlyn. Confused, Ashlyn simply stared. “You owe me,” Abby said with a wink, pulling Ashlyn’s bag down for her and stuffing it in her hands. 

“Thanks, Abby,” Ashlyn said, and headed back up the aisle. Ali was sitting about twenty rows in front of Ashlyn’s old seat, staring out the window at all the action on the tarmac. 

“Mind if I sit here?” Ashlyn asked. Ali turned and grinned at her. “Abby gave me this,” Ashlyn explained, flashing the new ticket. 

“I might have hinted that I had wanted a cuddle buddy for this flight,” Ali laughed. “Abby’s face was priceless. She was like ‘umm, I’d better get Ash for you, then’.” Ashlyn laughed as well, sliding into the aisle seat. 

The flight was a nice little reprieve from the world. Ali pulled out the complementary blanket from the package stuffed in the pouch in front of her and spread it out over the both of them. They lifted the armrest up and scooted closer to one another. Ali put on a movie on the screen in front of her seat and Ashlyn leaned over a little to watch. Their shoulders touched and she was gripping Ali’s hand lightly under the blanket so no one could see. There, they were anonymous — isolated as they were from the other players. She supposed that maybe some dreams could come true. 

Next thing Ashlyn knew, she was being nudged awake by Ali. She fought with the blanket a little in her drowsy haze, eventually extricating her arms so that she could rub the sleep from her eyes. 

“What’s up?” she asked, her voice husky with disuse. The lights were all off on the plane but around them passengers had started to push up the window coverings to reveal dark sky and bright specks of lights. 

“We’re starting to land, silly,” Ali said, pulling the blanket off the both of them and folding it up somewhat messily. She pushed the armrest back in place and clicked her seatbelt together as Ashlyn did the same. They looked at each other, hands to themselves. 

Though Ashlyn didn’t believe in fortune-telling or premonitions, she decided she might have to change her mind after the night before Thanksgiving. 

The sky had been a clear light blue, brushed even lighter by the rays of the sun. Below her, the water was warm as it lapped against the board. The back and forth motion as she drifted on the little waves out past the breakers relaxed her. She rested her cheek against the board and breathed in deeply, the scent of salty ocean brine flooding her nostrils. It was peaceful. 

As Ashlyn drifted, however, she could hear off in the distance the sound of a voice. Unclear but loud, it was shouting something. She raised her head to see a girl on the beach, dark hair blowing back behind her as she waved her arms frantically at Ashlyn. Still, she couldn’t understand what the girl was shouting. Ashlyn stared hard at her, trying to see her face, but she simply couldn’t. 

Then, from just under her, she could hear the start of a rumble. Her eyes jumped down to see the water dancing below her board. She was carried back and forth strongly with the rising waves. Ashlyn could feel her heart beating faster. In the distance, the girl was still yelling. Ashlyn fought to turn the nose of the surfboard towards the shore and began to paddle. 

Arms burning from the effort, she seemed to be making less and less ground with each stroke. She was breathing harder now, the water stinging with each gasping breath. She felt something close around her ankle and finally looked back to see a giant wave looming over her. As she stared, awed, at the wall of water that was sucking her in, she felt the front of her board dip down. Nearly vertical, she was thrown off as the wall of water moved forward, forward, eclipsing the sun and never stopping. She was beaten down under the weight and relentless power. 

Ashlyn’s first thought was to remain calm, right herself, surface. But the force of the water caused her to turn head over heels as she was pushed towards the shore. Her board, attached still to her ankle pulled and tugged and was thrown back around to smack her in the side. She could no longer tell up from down and the water grew so dark she didn’t think she ever could again. 

Her lungs were burning, crying out for oxygen, but she was stuck, buried in the push and pull of the ocean. She was at its mercy entirely. Ashlyn let out a cry at the pain in her chest, the ache for oxygen that pulsed throughout her body. And as the sea water flooded her lungs, she burned. 

Ashlyn awoke with a gasp, shaking and disoriented. The light from the window beside her bed streamed in strongly, muted only by the cream curtains pulled over it. Looking around, she saw that she was in the same hotel room as the previous night, though it was even more cluttered. In the bed nearest the door, Pinoe was bundled up snugly under the comforter, only her head and wide-open mouth showing. Heart still pounding, Ashlyn flopped back down on the pillows and fluttered her eyes shut again. 

The phone call came later. 

Ashlyn was used to spending Thanksgiving away from her family. She hardly ever had soccer commitments during the holiday, but she didn’t come home anyway, making up some excuse or another. She just didn’t want to see how broken everything was. Likewise, the family was quite used to celebrating without her there. That was how it went. So when Ashlyn saw the ID listed on her phone, she swallowed thickly, her finger poised over the accept button before she hurriedly hit decline and tossed her phone back onto her bed. 

“What is it?” 

“Hmm?” Ashlyn had been staring at the phone like it was a wild animal, cornered and ready to attack. She looked up to see Ali staring at her with a puzzled, worried expression. They had been enjoying some free time in Ashlyn’s room with just the two of them. Nothing much happened because it was still camp, but Ashlyn simply enjoyed sharing the same space as Ali. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Ash,” she said. “I’m not kidding. Your face is pale.” Ashlyn turned away, but couldn’t stop her hands from flying to her cheeks. She ran them down her face as though she might will the color to return. 

She could see the rise of the wave in front of her, encroaching on the sunlight. She shuddered, not wanting to feel its pull as it dragged her down. Her past was threatening to come for her and bring her back down to a place she would never be able to rise up from again. 

“Ashlyn,” Ali persisted. Ashlyn could tell she had taken a couple steps closer, that she was only an arm’s length away. “Ash, who called?” 

“My mom,” she said quietly. There was a beat of silence. 

Then, “Well, that’s good, isn’t it? That means she wants to reconnect. It is Thanksgiving, after all.” 

“I don’t want to reconnect, Al,” Ashlyn replied bitterly, not caring how much she sounded like a petulant child. “I don’t need that in my life.” 

“What happened, Ash?” Ali’s voice was soft, hesitant. She felt a hand on her back, small and warm. It ran up her shoulder blade and stopped near her neck. Ashlyn turned and Ali enveloped her in a hug. “I want to support you, but I don’t even know what this story is. You keep avoiding it.” 

“It’s not a pretty story, Ali.” 

“Do you think I care? Ashlyn, I’ve been through this with my brother. It’s okay.” 

“No it’s not, because I’m not like you, Ali! I grew up in a house where my parents were constantly fighting, they were working day and night to make enough so that we could keep the house and even then we survived on food stamps half the time. But I guess the stress and depression got them, there was a really ugly divorce, and that’s when my mother became an alcoholic and my brother just…lost control…” Ashlyn took a deep breath and ran her hands over her face. “He was my protector at home, my rock, and he just…it was like I didn’t know him anymore.” 

“Ashlyn…” Ali murmured. Ashlyn turned away from her. 

“And I just had to get out. I had to leave everyone and everything, and so I did…and I never went back.” 

She could feel Ali’s eyes burning into her back, but she couldn’t bring herself to face Ali. She suspected what Ali would have to say: call your mom, give her another chance, it’s Thanksgiving for God’s sake. Ashlyn didn’t have it in her to listen. 

The phone rang again and they both could see clearly who it was. 

“Answer it, Ashlyn,” Ali pressed. “I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.” 

Ashlyn stared at the phone for a long moment, listening as she heard Ali turn, walk across the room, and shut the door behind her. She stared and stared as the ringing kept coming, a sound that echoed in her ears like the raging of the water in her dream, and made a difficult choice. 

“Another year away from home,” Pinoe crooned, strumming her little guitar. “Away from home on Thanksgiving…” 

“Way to get everyone even more depressed,” Amy commented. “Team Thanksgivings are never as good as the real thing.” 

“Hold on, hold on,” Lori said, raising her hands. “We’ve got just about every kind of drunk you could hope for in one space. What could get better than that?” 

“Lori makes a good point,” HAO agreed. “Mittsy’s the Vodka Aunt, Pinoe’s the crazy drunk, Abby crushes any sort of ‘old man’ drink like it’s her job, and we’ve got a whole slew of wine moms.” She threw a thumb to Christie and Shannon. “Then you’ve got Ashlyn, who has the tastes of a college frat boy,” she added with a teasing grin. 

Ashlyn glared at her from where she was sitting, Ali next to her, her arm thrown across the back of the couch. They were nearly touching. 

“Ooh, watch out, Kriegs is a serial frat boy dater,” Mittsy laughed. Ashlyn’s eyes widened and she felt warmth seep into her cheeks. Ali whipped her head around to look at her and then the arm Ashlyn had slung across the couch. Ashlyn watched her to see how she should react. Relief flooded her as Ali began to laugh easily. 

“That was like twice,” Ali defended. “I’d hardly call that a pattern.” She glanced over at Ashlyn again. Her eyes lit up and Ashlyn knew they were thinking the same thing: but three might be. 

“Too bad we can’t actually experience everyone drunk tonight,” Leslie grumbled. 

Strictly going against their diets, the team had ordered in pizza for Thanksgiving as a bit of a treat. The greasy, cheesy slices only served to highlight how different this Thanksgiving was compared to the ones spent with family, but the treat was nice anyway. After a quick prayer, they dug in, opting to share what they were thankful for as they stuffed their mouths with the hot pizza. 

“Alex’s super clutch goal,” Abby started as they went around. Everyone laughed and shouted praise at Alex, who blushed bright red and did a little bow for everyone. With their first game under their belts as a win, the tension amongst the players had relaxed greatly. Though it had been a hard fight, they rode high on the win, hoping the momentum would continue for the next one. 

Ashlyn didn’t suit up for the game in Illinois either, but she was still there on the bench to cheer on the team. Down at the other end, Jill Loyden sat in her goalkeeping kit, though it was likely she wouldn’t see time either. Ashlyn tried not to let it get to her, but she couldn’t help feeling a little lost. She was still an outsider looking in and she didn’t know how much longer she could be there playing fourth fiddle, training with the team and never even seeing a kit with her name on the back. 

She tried to put it out of her mind as best she could, joking around with the other players on the bench and cheering loudly for their team (especially Ali, who had gotten the start at right back). And Ali made it easy to cheer for her. She was clearly on her game as she made hard tackles, charged up and down the right flank, and sent balls across the front of the goal. She was pulled out around the 60th minute after a couple not-so-good crosses, slapping Mittsy’s butt as she ran onto the field for her. 

Ali sat down next to Ashlyn heavily, squirting water into her mouth from one of the US Soccer bottles. With their one-goal lead, courtesy of A-Rod, they had some insurance, but the fight was still going on hard with half an hour to go. 

“Should I be jealous?” Ashlyn whispered to Ali as she drank some more water, referring to Mittsy. Ali choked a little and coughed hard to get the water to go down properly. As she recovered she sent Ashlyn a look. Ashlyn grinned back at her cheekily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read, everyone, and thanks for the comments! Let me know what you thought of this one! Am I getting the rest of the USWNT players about right? 
> 
> Next chapter: Christmas, Vegas, and a bit of ya know....


	7. Reefs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm super upset about Shannon and Cammie so here's some Ashlyn and Ali!
> 
> It's Christmas and New Years! 
> 
> Also...this chapter has a higher rating than previous but isn't too detailed so just be aware.

There had been a point in time in which Ashlyn Harris never thought she’d get back on a surfboard again. In fact, she had been so scared of the ocean, she grew to prefer tanning on the beach, a pastime she had previously scoffed at. 

The surf had been nice that day and she had caught plenty of waves. Back on the boat, which was anchored a ways offshore, she could hear faint trails of the music that was playing. It was the boat that belonged to the family of the boy she was seeing. Even in her head, she had a difficult time calling him her boyfriend. After all, wasn’t she supposed to like him more if he was her boyfriend? 

That’s what she had been thinking about as she paddled out to meet another great wave. Mind occupied and arms moving powerfully through the water, she barely had time to stop herself as a mammoth of a shark surfaced only feet in front of her, its dorsal fin breaking through the water and sending up a cloud of spray. Ashlyn bit back a scream and pulled her limbs in onto the board, chest heaving as she tried to slow her breathing, waiting for the shark to swim away. 

Swim away, she thought at the shark, swim away. 

After what seemed like years of waiting, she could just see the tail of the shark in the distance. Trying to keep herself calm, she turned around and paddled as fast as she could back to the boat. Her arms and lungs burned but she couldn’t stop. 

“Ash, what’s got you so worked up?” her boy…friend asked as she grew closer. 

“Shark,” she yelped, past caring about how scared she sounded and more than grateful to see the worry furrow his brow as he quickly got up and reached out to help her back onto the boat. She accepted his help as he pulled up her board and wrapped her in a towel, holding her close to him tightly. 

“I am not surfing ever again,” she promised herself. Her friends and family all looked at her strangely as she sold her board, pocketing what little cash she got for it. “It’s too dangerous,” she replied with a shrug. “I’m not going back in there to get eaten alive.” 

For the first time in a long time, Ashlyn really went home for Christmas. She ended up driving to her old family home where her mom still lived. The old white door and light-colored stone exterior, the cracked concrete in the walkway and the short-cropped grass all brought back memories Ashlyn physically tried to shy away from. But they were already in her, and there was no hiding. 

The first Christmas present Ashlyn received that year was something she hadn’t realized she even wanted — a hug from her mom. Things weren’t perfect between them. Ashlyn pulled away and folded into herself as her mother asked about her life during college, as she told Ashlyn that she followed all the news of whatever team Ashlyn was playing for, as she congratulated Ashlyn on her recent National Team call-up. Still, it was something. It was the first step. 

They had a pleasant time together, she and her mother and Chris, the latter of which was sober as well and had a girlfriend and was in a period of such improvement Ashlyn could nearly feel her heart bursting with pride as she looked at him. After they’d opened a couple presents and ate a nice Christmas lunch, Ashlyn and Chris excused themselves to sit together on the curb in front of the house and talk. 

“She really seems different,” Ashlyn commented. 

“I’m surprised you came back,” Chris replied. 

“Me too,” Ashlyn said. “I wasn’t planning on it.” She really hadn’t been, even after answering that second phone call. Still suspicious of her mom’s motives, still trying to protect herself from the memories and the hurt that she knew would come with that trip, she had hung up with a strong resolve to keep her distance. That had been her choice. As Christmas approached, however, she could feel her fear begin to dissipate. And so she had come home, and that was her choice, too. 

“Maybe we can be part of each others’ lives,” Ashlyn said, surprising herself yet again. “But only on my say.” 

Another unexpected Christmas gift came in the form of a Skype call from the one and only Ali Krieger. They had remained in close contact since they’d departed from Illinois, traveling in separate directions. And it was made easier once Ali came back to the states for the holidays in the middle of December. She was staying at her dad’s place in Northern Virginia for the holidays, so there was no time change to worry about. 

“Merry Christmas, Ash!” Ali greeted cheerily. 

“Merry Christmas, Princess,” Ashlyn replied. She propelled herself back and forth in her spinning desk chair, excitement flowing through her at the sight of her girl. “Hey, um, I took your advice,” Ashlyn said. “I’m back home for Christmas.” 

Ali brightened even more, which Ashlyn hardly thought was possible. “That’s great, Ash! I’m proud of you. Did things…are things alright?” Ashlyn could hear the hesitance in Ali’s voice, like she was walking over shattered glass. Ashlyn looked up at her and smiled softly. 

“Maybe soon,” she said. “I think I want to try and actually put effort into making things work again.” 

“I’m so proud of you, babe,” Ali said emphatically. Ashlyn raised her eyebrows at the new pet name, grinning like a king. 

“What’s that?” she teased. Even over the grainy view of Skype, Ashlyn could see Ali blush vivid pink. 

“Sorry, should I not?” Ali cringed. 

“No, no, I like being your babe,” Ashlyn assured her. “I’ll take that as my Christmas present.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want the real one?” Ali laughed. Ashlyn made her eyebrows dance. 

“You got me something?” 

“Of course, and you better have gotten me something if you know what’s good for you!” Ashlyn laughed loudly. 

“Don’t worry — I have it covered,” she assured her. “So, when can I see you next?” 

“Well…I usually go down to my mom’s around New Year’s. That’s, what three hours away from you?” 

“Alex!” The call came from far away, but Ashlyn could still hear it loud and clear, picked up on Ali’s mic. “Alex!” It was closer. Ali rolled her eyes and Ashlyn watched as the door to her room was thrown open and a young man with dark, short-cropped hair strode in. 

“Alex, it is Christmas, a time of family. You are not supposed to be — ooh, who are you talking to?” 

“Alex?” Ashlyn asked. 

“My family calls me Alex sometimes,” Ali explained. She was pushed aside as the man slid onto the chair Ali was sitting in, leaning in close to the screen to observe Ashlyn. Ashlyn was glad she’d actually taken the time to make herself presentable that morning. She usually bummed around on Christmas. 

“Hello, mystery Skype girl. I’m Kyle, Alex’s brilliant older brother.” He introduced himself flamboyantly, making Ashlyn laugh a little. Sitting so close to each other, Ashlyn could easily see their similarities and differences. Their features were quite different, but they both spoke with the same mumble, the same inflection, and Kyle moved his hands in the same ways Ali often would. He looked clean cut and happy and Ashlyn nearly forgot that he was once so deep into addiction that he’d abandoned his entire family. 

“I’m Ashlyn,” Ashlyn replied. “Nice to meet you.”

“She’s my friend from National Team camp,” Ali added. Ashlyn’s smile dropped a little at that. She managed to catch Ali’s eye and watched as she frowned a little as well. 

“Yup,” Ashlyn agreed, putting a smile back on. “We were roommates.” Ali looked down at her lap. Kyle looked over at Ali. Ashlyn looked at Kyle. 

“Well,” Kyle started, drawing out the word, “You must’ve been a pretty good roommate to earn a Skype call on Christmas day…” It wasn’t malicious. Kyle looked at Ali with a gleam in his eye. “It was nice meeting you, Ashlyn. I hope we can meet in person sometime.” 

“Oh, definitely,” Ashlyn agreed. She wondered if she should tell Ali about the knowing look in Kyle’s eyes as he stood and waved goodbye; the shit eating grin he wore, slipping out the door. As the click of the door shutting sounded through the room, Ali finally looked up again. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said immediately. “Sorry, I just…I’m not comfortable yet. I want to be, but I can’t get past this block in my head, like…” Her eyes searched the ceiling, as though the answer to what she was feeling inside could be found up there. “Like I’ll be disappointing everyone? Like…they already expect something from me and I’m not that, what they expect.” Ashlyn frowned. 

She knew she couldn’t take it to heart — let Ali’s words worm their way into her mind and hurt her — but it was difficult not to take it personally. Was she a disappointment? Would Ali’s family not like her? Abby’s words from the hotel came back to her. She had to help Ali accept herself first. 

“Ali, I’m going to support you as much as I can while you’re figuring this new part of you out,” Ashlyn promised. “I don’t want you to think you’re doing anything…wrong, though. You don’t think you and I…us…we’re wrong, do you?” 

“No,” Ali replied hurriedly. “No, I — I mean, my brother’s gay. I don’t think that’s wrong.” She sighed, slumping slightly in her seat. “I don’t know what the problem is exactly…It’s something in me.” She turned her head sharply to stare at Ashlyn. “And can’t I just keep you to myself for now? It’s only been a little while.” 

“Yeah,” Ashlyn replied weakly. She was trying desperately to understand the turmoil going through Ali’s head. She, of course, remembered discovering that how she felt for girls was different from all the other girls she knew, but she knew that this was different. Ali had someone in her life who was gay and her family seemed fine with it and she was fine with it. Ashlyn couldn’t really grasp why Ali wasn’t fine with herself and didn’t exactly know how to help Ali. 

“I can’t wait to see you in person, Alex,” Ashlyn said with a tentative smile. Ali blushed and ducked her head. “Can I call you Alex, too? I think it’s cute.” 

“Yes,” Ali said certainly. “I like when you say it.” 

Their plans for New Years changed when Abby called and invited them to join her and Sarah as well as Pinoe, Lori, and their girlfriends in Las Vegas to celebrate. Ashlyn was a bit stunned at the invitation. She had gotten to know Abby and Sarah well the previous season at the Washington Freedom. She’d been invited to Abby’s house for steak dinners and they had hung out together a bit outside of soccer. This was a big trip, though, and she couldn’t help but feel excited to be included. There was that little thing, though — that everyone going on the trip was a couple…and then there was her and Ali. 

“Are you sure you’d feel comfortable?” Ashlyn asked. They’d been on the phone with each other for awhile talking about the trip. In the background, Ashlyn could hear raucous laughter accompanied by voices. Ali’s family was over for a day-after-Christmas lunch. Ali let out a noise of frustration and Ashlyn listened to her heavy footfalls as the voices grew softer. 

“Sorry, they’re all so loud,” Ali said. “What did you say?” 

“I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable…you know, being there on what I figure is basically a couples’ trip.” Ashlyn paced a little. On the other end of the line, there was quiet for a long, long moment. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Ali said, like it was a question she was asking herself. “It’s just Pinoe and Lori.” A little more confidence. “We don’t have to say anything specific.” 

“So…we’re going to Vegas?” 

“I think we are.” Ashlyn could hear Ali’s smile. 

10…9…8…7…

Ashlyn wrapped an arm around Ali’s shoulders, squeezing her tightly. Alcohol had loosened their limbs throughout the night, but they still remained at a respectable distance from each other. To an outsider, Ashlyn wondered if they would look like good friends or if anyone could tell just how much Ashlyn wanted to kiss her. There were still a few seconds left in 2010, though, and they were in public. Looking down, Ashlyn caught Ali’s eye. She was just about buzzing with excitement. Her dark eyes gleamed. 

They really hadn’t talked about what they would present their relationship as to Lori and Pinoe and their girlfriends before they went to Vegas. They didn’t talk about it on the plane or in the hotel as they settled in before heading out to dinner with their friends. As it turned out, Lori and Pinoe didn’t say anything about the fact that Ali and Ashlyn were accompanying them on the trip. Ashlyn couldn’t tell if Abby had told them and they were playing it cool, or they really didn’t notice, but neither she nor Ali had to field any relationship questions.

Exploring the strip with their crazy group had been an adventure and an experience. Hitting up bars and clubs as they made their way around, they got drink after drink and toasted everything from Abby’s bad dancing to waking up with a raging hangover. 

“To the perfect way to start the New Year,” Pinoe had proposed, raising her beer. “When you’re throwing up tomorrow morning, feeling like shit, you at least know that your year can only go up from there.” 

“Here, here,” Abby agreed. They all clinked their drinks together and took a swig each. 

“That was surprisingly thoughtful, Pin,” Sarah said once she’d swallowed. 

Pinoe let out a tremendous burp. “I try,” she said. 

6…5… 

The chanting and cheering and screaming from the crowd they were sandwiched amongst grew louder and louder and Ali and Ashlyn joined in happily. Ashlyn watched Ali out of the corner of her eye as she threw her head back and yelled at the top of her lungs. 

She was beginning to think that this trip had been a sort of miracle. She and Ali had gotten together a month ago, but they hadn’t had a chance to see each other in person since then. They hadn’t even gone on that first date. Despite the fact that they’d agreed there would extreme jealousy to deal with if they saw other people, Ashlyn still felt that they only existed together in a weird middle place — their relationship wasn’t strictly defined. They were together, but not together, and definitely hadn’t been together. Despite that, even their short stay in Las Vegas had begun to blur the lines. 

“You know, we still haven’t gone on that date,” Ashlyn said, raising her voice a little to be heard over the pounding music. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Abby trying something vaguely related to dancing. 

Ali smiled at her. “Does this all count? Vegas seems like a pretty good first date to me.” 

“Sure,” Ashlyn said, grinning in return. 

Music loud in their ears, Ali turned and began to dance closer to Ashlyn. She was momentarily stunned by how relaxed Ali seemed with everything. Grinning to herself, Ashlyn placed her hands lightly on Ali’s hips. She moved so that her mouth was beside Ali’s ear and softly said, “If this is a date, you better let me buy you another drink.” She could feel Ali shudder against her at the feel of Ashlyn’s breath on her ear. 

“After,” she said. “Dance with me, first.” 

4…3…

They’d moved again as it grew closer to midnight, joining a party outside on the strip where they could see the large, illuminated countdown. Music was blasting and the throngs of people gave off enough body heat to take the edge off of the chilly desert air. As they all maneuvered through the dancing groups, Ashlyn held out her hand behind her to catch Ali’s, making sure they weren’t separated. 

They all got another beer in plastic cups and danced and talked as the minutes wound closer and closer. Ashlyn had dropped Ali’s hand as soon as they'd all picked a place to stop, but she soon found Ali’s hand brushing against hers again. She looked over and Ali was giving her a look, dark and intense. Ashlyn swallowed thickly, hoping no one else had noticed. 

“Can I help you, Alex?” Ashlyn murmured close to her ear. 

“I’m not doing anything,” Ali giggled. Ashlyn rolled her eyes, certain that Ali was trying to work her up intentionally. 

“Sarah and I are going to get some water,” Abby announced as it grew closer to midnight. Ashlyn met her eyes and nearly burst into laughter as she caught on to what she was really doing. 

“Pshh,” Pinoe scoffed. “You can’t be done already.” Abby, meanwhile, gave Ashlyn a knowing look. 

“Just because you’re not keeping up with proper hydration doesn’t mean we have to follow your example,” Abby replied. 

“I am properly hydrated,” Pinoe protested. “Alcohol is still a liquid!” Walshy laughed loudly, throwing her head back. She was far gone. Ashlyn shook her head at the couples’ retreating figures before turning back to their other friends. 

2…

The crowd grew and drew them in as it moved and expanded to accommodate the hundreds of drunken partiers and Ashlyn and Ali were swept along with them and the rest of their group. They found themselves in the middle of the crowd. 

“This is crazy,” Lori laughed out. Ashlyn secured her arm around Ali’s shoulders and the pair of them watched the countdown in front of them, the neon letters steadily growing closer to midnight. 

1…

And as the screams of the party-goers echoed around them and the music blasted and confetti dropped from God knows where, couple smashed their lips together passionately, strangers grabbed each other, drunk girls tottered over on the chests of similarly wasted boys. Beside them, Lori and Pinoe were kissing their girlfriends with abandon, a mix of drunken confidence and the knowledge that no one would care in the midst of their own celebrations. 

Ashlyn locked eyes with Ali and smiled sweetly. “Happy New Year, Princess,” she said, pulling Ali into a tight hug. “I think this one’s going to be good.” She looked down at her, giving Ali the option of going for the kiss but, even with all she’d had to drink, Ali merely blushed and looked away. As Ashlyn started to pull away, Ali jumped forward and caught Ashlyn on the cheek, right beside her ear. Ashlyn feigned anger at that, wiping sticky lip gloss off her cheek. 

“Happy New Year,” Ali laughed. Ashlyn grabbed her around the waist and spun her around as best she could with everyone around them. 

“I’m gonna need more than that,” Ashlyn murmured in her ear, setting her back down. She watched as Ali’s eyes darkened, her lips parting slightly. 

“We can have our own countdown back in the room,” she suggested. Ashlyn suddenly felt the crowd more oppressive than before. She just wanted to leave and be alone with Ali. 

Walking back to their hotel room, Ali slipped her hand into Ashlyn’s. They hurried along on the street as best they could, hurried even more in the hotel lobby, and even more down their hallway until Ashlyn was fumbling with the door and Ali was encouraging her with light touches on her stomach, eyes scanning the area around them to make sure they were alone.

The door fell shut behind the giggling pair. Ali threw off her heels, tossing them at the dresser. Ashlyn watched her with a grin. Her tight black dress had taunted her all night and now she couldn’t help but watch as it rode up the back of her thighs. 

“So, that second New Years countdown?” Ali asked, spinning back around to lock her hands behind Ashlyn’s neck. The energy in the room was still light and comfortable, but Ashlyn could feel the dam starting the burst. As Ali pressed her body against hers fully, everything they’d felt that night as they’d danced and drank and laughed, always keeping their touches to the minimum, was coming back. And Ali’s eyes looked so, so dark. 

“10…” Ashlyn started, leaning her head down to Ali’s an almost imperceptible distance. She could feel Ali fidgeting against her already, spurring her on. “9…8…7…” 

“6,5,4,3,2…” Ashlyn had to laugh at Ali surging through the numbers. She ducked her head closer, watching as Ali bit her lip with anticipation. 

They stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity before Ashlyn finally surged forward and pressed her lips, hot and hard, against Ali’s. Underneath her touch, Ali groaned deeply and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer. 

“One,” she let out in a gasp as they parted lips. Ali showed her agreement by pulling her back towards her again. 

Any complaints about the cold that had escaped Ashlyn’s lips over the course of the night disappeared and suddenly she was too hot. Her skin burned and what she could feel of Ali’s was burning as well. She groaned just as much in relief as arousal as Ali whispered hotly in her ear, “Take off your shirt,” before attacking the lobe of her ear with her lips. 

Ashlyn consented immediately and began to shuck off her jacket, pulling away from Ali just enough to slip her shirt over her head. And then they were on each other again, Ali’s hands roaming to Ashlyn’s stomach, making the muscles there jump under each soft touch. Ashlyn’s hands pushed up the back of Ali’s shirt, running her fingers languidly over the smooth skin she found there. 

Breathing heavily, Ali pulled her lips from Ashlyn’s and slipped out of her top, tossing it on the floor behind her. Ashlyn’s eyes raked down her front appreciatively, appraising her taut stomach and the black, lacy bra that encased her heaving chest. She licked her lips and pushed Ali backwards until they were both falling onto the bed. 

Ashlyn’s head was spinning. The heat was still consuming her as Ali’s hands explored her body liberally. They’d done this before with each other, but never with so much hunger. Ashlyn had never seen Ali’s eyes so dark or her neck so flushed. As Ashlyn trailed kissed down the column of her neck, Ali’s breath stuttered and Ashlyn grinned into her skin before traveling back up the way she came to press a hard kiss to Ali’s lips.

“I want you,” she breathed as Ashlyn pulled away. A shock of heat ran through her body. Everywhere was pulsing, thrumming with the frantic rhythm of her heart. She took a breath and tried to still her body, un-cloud her head. 

“On the first date?” she only half-teased. This was something they hadn’t talked about either. 

“Please,” Ali scoffed, “This counts for at least three dates in my book.” She pulled Ashlyn back down to her by the back of her neck and took her bottom lip between both of hers. “Please,” she said again, and this time it was breathy and needy and all Ashlyn knew was how much she wanted Ali too. Her body ached for her touch. She pulled Ali closer. 

Ashlyn was intrigued by each gasp and noise Ali made, discovering every little spot that made her squirm. The taste of her, the way she shut her eyes, mouth open, head back — everything was intoxicating. She was caught in a haze of heat and sweat and emotion. 

Ali held her own, pushing Ashlyn to go further, shyly pushing down her pants, running her hands along her body with increasing confidence as she let her desire control her. “Are you going to — ” she said as Ashlyn slid down her body. 

“Is that okay?” Ashlyn asked. Ali’s eyes were wide and she was breathing hard. She nodded once. Ashlyn heard Ali cry out, and she knew that it was more than alright. And then, after she’d stopped shaking, she turned over to hover over Ashlyn, leaning down to kiss her gently before tugging on her bottom lip. 

Ali looked worried as she pulled away, more hesitant than she’d been all night. “I don’t know how to do that for you,” she blurted out. Ashlyn couldn’t help but laugh a little. Her voice was a bit deeper than she’d expected, she was so worked up. 

Ali turned red with embarrassment and looked away. “I’ll help you,” Ashlyn promised. She reached out and cupped Ali’s face gently, forcing her to look at her again. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said. “You're driving me crazy already. I don't know that I could handle much more.” Ali laughed, relaxing enough that she let her body drop to rest against Ashlyn’s. She bit back a groan as her body throbbed even more. 

“Really?” Ali asked. 

“Really,” Ashlyn promised. She glanced at Ali’s lips, plump and red, before looking up to find her eyes dark and intense once more. 

Ali was halting and tentative and Ashlyn found herself instructing her in exactly how to move her hands, telling her what felt good and what didn’t. Ali would touch her or kiss the inside of her thigh and then look up for approval, something that strangely enough turned Ashlyn on even more. There was laughing and adjusting and careful encouragements, but Ashlyn didn’t mind. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she hissed out, hands gripping at the sheets. 

“You’re so beautiful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read! It'd be great if you guys left me a review! How was that last scene? I've never written stuff like that before so I was like hoo boy here we go. Hopefully it's decent.


	8. Oceans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another camp, some cuteness, and Ali's trepidations.

Ashlyn’s good days and bad continued to be dictated by soccer, her family, and Ali, but despite the fact that Ali was back in Germany and they hadn’t seen each other in person in months, Ashlyn found her good days adding up quickly. In mid January, she got some very good news. 

“Ali, I have something to tell you,” Ashlyn said in lieu of a greeting once Ali picked up the phone. 

“Hmm?” was her reply. She yawned and Ashlyn checked the time. She made a face. She’d forgotten about the time change again and knew that Ali had probably been sleeping. 

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “You should go back to sleep. I can tell you tomorrow.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Ali said with another yawn. Ashlyn could hear the rustling of covers and imagined that Ali was sitting up in bed, maybe turning on the light. “What’s up?” 

“So, I didn’t tell you this before because I wasn’t sure anything would come of it, but I’ve been in discussions with my agent and the coach of the Flash for a couple months now,” Ashlyn said. 

There was a pause, then, “But something has happened now, right? Do they want to sign you?” 

“Yeah,” Ashlyn said. “They’ve been saying they wanted to sign me since the beginning of December but we’ve only just finished working everything out. It’s all set, and next season I’ll be playing for the Flash — as their starting keeper.” 

Ali yelped excitedly and Ashlyn laughed at how much energy she had been able to muster together for that. “I’m so proud of you, Ash,” she said. “Oh my gosh, that’s great!” 

“They said they saw my games from the Freedom last season and that I’d been called up a lot by the National Team and that sealed the deal for them. They said they think I’m ‘pretty hot stuff’. I’m not lying — those exact words.” They both were cracking up at that point. 

“Well, I think you’re pretty hot stuff, too,” Ali said, her voice a bit lower. Ashlyn groaned exaggeratedly. 

“That was bad, Alex, I’m not gonna lie,” Ashlyn said. She sighed. “I can’t wait to see you again.” 

“There’s that February camp, but I don’t think I’ll be allowed to leave,” Ali said. “They were already pretty upset about me being gone most of November. I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Ashlyn replied, but even she could hear the disappointment in her voice. 

Ashlyn never mentioned it to Ali, but she really missed her. Ever since she’d left to return to her club again, there had been an excess of bad days as she had nothing to do but wait for her National Team duties to start again at the end of the month. She spent time with her friends from high school, Liz and Jess, as well as with Chris, and spent a great deal of time training or at the beach, but she was always thinking about Ali. She wondered if Ali did the same. 

“Did you pack for China yet?” Ali asked. 

“For the most part,” Ashlyn replied. “You’re sure you can’t hop on a plane and come kick butt with us?” 

“I have games over here,” Ali said. “Play well.” 

“We both know I’m not going to play.” Ashlyn’s tone challenged Ali to even try to say otherwise. It was a Four Nations tournament and, though US Soccer specifically decided against bringing their big guns (Abby and Hope would be missing it), Ashlyn knew that Barnie would get all the field time and she was just lucky to dress out. 

“Coaching staff will still be watching,” Ali said. “You haven’t been left out of a camp since October. That’s a pretty good streak going, there.” 

“Yeah,” Ashlyn said, but she wasn’t impressed with herself. Part of her wondered if she would forever be called into camp without a cap to ever show for it. What would be the point then? What did they keep calling her in for? On top of it all, she realized that she was keeping Ali awake and just like that, Ashlyn’s exhilaration at finalizing the Flash deal turned into bitterness. “I should let you get some sleep. I’ll text you or something before I leave.” 

“Okay, babe,” Ali said. “I’m so proud of you. I really am. I’ll have to become a New York fan now.” Ali sounded so sincere, Ashlyn couldn’t help but smile slightly. There was a pang in her chest from missing her. 

“Western New York,” Ashlyn corrected, “The colder cousin of New York.” 

“At least it won’t be winter when you’re playing there,” Ali offered. 

“It’ll still be snowy when I start training with the team,” Ashlyn said with disgust. “I can’t believe I have to find an apartment over there soon. It’s gonna be so cold.” 

“Oh, baby, just bundle up,” Ali cooed. “I miss you.” 

“Miss you too,” Ashlyn replied. “I’ll talk to you soon. Goodnight.” 

China was a good distraction for her until it wasn’t. She was able to explore around their facility and the city itself with HAO and Tobin and she was able to spend time with the rest of the girls. Training, on the other hand, was growing frustrating. She felt that she was never making enough progress. Around every corner, there was another obstacle, and most existed within her own body. 

If only she was a little bit faster. If only she was a little bit stronger. If only she was a little bit taller. The big one: if only she was as smart as Barnie. Barnie, who had a calm, quiet demeanor, was never one for goofing off in practice. She watched players with a steady eye and, reflected in there, Ashlyn could almost see the gears turning. She was intimidating — Stanford grad and Plutarch’s biggest fan, the bane of every crossword puzzle in existence. Ashlyn began to think that she’d never be able to match up to her, let alone Hope. 

She spent those afternoons where the hopeless thoughts plagued her so heavily and intensely she felt as though she couldn’t move, holed up in the common room, where games and activities were set up to keep everyone occupied and out of trouble. She would think and half-heartedly watch whatever was on the TV that was in English and watch the clock, waiting for a decent time to call Ali. 

“Aww, are you sad that your girl isn’t here?” Ashlyn shot up and looked around to see Pinoe leaning over the back of the couch, making a face. Ashlyn looked around, but it seemed as though no one else in the room was in hearing distance. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ashlyn hissed in return. Yes, she thought to herself, but that’s not the only thing. She did miss Ali intensely whenever she felt badly, though. Even just her presence seemed to help pull Ashlyn out of her stupor and set her on the right path. 

“Yeah right,” Pinoe scoffed. She launched herself up over the back of the couch and landed with a hard bounce next to Ashlyn. “Your girl — the beautiful Alexandra — who you were making googly eyes with all New Years.” Ashlyn opened her mouth to protest but Pinoe cut her off with a glare, shoving an accusatory finger in her face. “Don’t try to lie to me, Ashlyn. I may have been drunk, but I wasn’t that drunk.” 

Ashlyn shifted, uncomfortable. “Ali doesn’t want to tell anyone right now and, honestly, I agree since we’re apart so much.” 

“Well sorry to say, but you both were pretty obvious. But Abby told me to shut up when I asked about it, so we didn’t say anything. If Kriegs thinks that she was in any way subtle, she’s got another thing coming.” 

“Yeah, okay, just don’t mention it to anyone,” Ashlyn said. “Ali’s not comfortable with everything yet.” 

“I get it,” Pinoe said, clapping a hand on Ashlyn’s shoulder. “Just remind her that hickeys aren’t attractive. Your cover-up job was a bit sad.” Ashlyn’s jaw just about dropped as she watched Pinoe walk away.

It had taken another month and a half after that for Ashlyn and Ali to finally see each other in person again. The Algarve Cup. Portugal. 2011 was already turning into a year of firsts as Ashlyn attended her first Algarve. She was pretty giddy for that reason, but more so because she would soon be in the same country as Ali Krieger, let alone the same room. Ten days. That was how much time they were guaranteed together, and Ashlyn wanted to ensure they made the most of it. 

Ashlyn let her head fall back onto her pillow, utterly spent and breathing heavy. Glazed eyes stared at the ceiling. She felt Ali moving, shifting next to her, until she lay herself down next to Ashlyn. A hand stroked up and down her arm lazily. Ashlyn tried to regain her breath and come down from the bliss that had just wracked through her body, making her bones weak. 

As her sweat cooled, Ashlyn raised an arm and wrapped it around Ali, who curled further into her side. Ashlyn could feel Ali grinning into the skin of her shoulder where years of sun dotted her with dark freckles. 

“That was so good,” Ashlyn breathed, impressed. She saw Ali’s eyebrow quirk and hurried to correct her words. “I mean, Vegas was good too, but this…Ali, you are amazing.” And a damn quick learner, Ashlyn added to herself. Whereas Ali had been nervous and unsure of herself in Vegas, exploring uncharted territory with trepidation, startled by every reaction, she had attacked Ashlyn with newfound confidence and, as if that wasn’t sexy enough, the way she touched Ashlyn made keeping quiet a challenge. 

“You better not have been practicing on some German milkmaid,” Ashlyn warned with mock concern. 

Ali picked herself up on one elbow so that she could look at Ashlyn who was still lazing back on the pillows. “Truthfully,” Ali started, her cheeks going pink. Ashlyn’s heart stopped. And then Ali mumbled something so softly Ashlyn could only pick out a couple words. From what she heard, though, she was filled with relief, and then amusement. 

“What?” she said, moving closer to hear her. A silly grin pulled at her lips. Ali ducked her head sheepishly. 

“I googled how to do a couple things…So that I would know better,” Ali admitted, loud enough this time that Ashlyn could hear everything. She couldn’t help herself. Ashlyn cupped a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter but it bubbled up anyway, especially seeing Ali’s deepening blush. She slapped Ashlyn’s arm and spun away, laying with her back facing her. 

“Aw, Alex, I’m sorry I laughed,” Ashlyn cooed. She wrapped herself around Ali’s back, resting her chin on her shoulder. “I’m sorry; I think it’s really cute, and obviously it worked pretty well.” She watched as a slow smirk grew on Ali’s face. 

“Yeah, didn’t last very long there, did you?” she quipped in return.Truthfully, she had turned into a veritable puddle as soon as Ali touched her and that was that. Ashlyn set aside her wounded pride, resolving to get Ali back later. There was something else she had on her mind that was far more pressing.

“You know, if you’re so concerned with ‘doing it right’, we could practice more,” Ashlyn suggested, her voice low. Her hand slipped lower down Ali’s body. Ali let out a breathy gasp. “And I’m a much better teacher than Google, babe.”

There was always a meeting before the game where players were alerted as to what to expect in terms of starters and minutes. There were the usual suspects who got their start, the sometimes predictable candidates for the, “Be on standby; you’ll see a few minutes towards the end,” talk, and then the ones who were passed over. Out of the twenty-three called into camp, only twenty would dress for the game. 

In the history of her call-ups, these meetings hadn’t been very nice to Ashlyn. She’d only just gotten to dress out for the Four Nations games in China but, especially with Hope back in camp, there was no such guarantee. Sitting next to Ali, she tried not to glance over at her biggest competition at that point — Alyssa. The first two goalkeeper spots secured tightly, she felt like she was constantly jockeying with the younger keeper for the last spot. 

“Harris,” Pia said. Ashlyn looked up, waiting for those words she’d grown so familiar with: You’ve done well this camp, but we’ve decided not to use you for these games. “You’ll be dressing out for these games. Barnie will get the start, so don’t expect any playing time.” Ashlyn nodded in acknowledgement of this small honor. She’d at least get to wear the kit out, her name emblazoned on the back of her senior National Team jersey. 

“Hope, you and Alyssa won’t be dressing for the game.” Pia then moved on to the other players. She hinted at Ali that she’d be playing the whole game, bar any injury, and told Alex Morgan to be ready to warm up and go towards the end of the game — she would be their fresh legs at the end, most likely pairing up with Abby. 

They hit the training field for the last time before their first game for a night session. The air was cooler and the sun began to set as they started heading back in, packing up balls and cones in mesh bags and loading them in the team vans. Ashlyn had had a good practice and made lots of saves during their short scrimmage. Paul pulled her aside as she was helping Ali gather the abundance of water bottles scattered around the goal. 

“Harris,” he said. Ashlyn stood up straight, hands filled with US Soccer water bottles. “You did well today. I’d like you to stay back a little and take a few penalties. Your instincts are getting better, and more practice with this will only help you figure out where players want to go, read their cues.” 

“Alright,” Ashlyn said. 

“Oh, I’ll take those,” Paul said. He plucked the bottles out of Ashlyn’s arms. “Krieger!” Ali was still gathering more. “Put those down, lace your boots back up, take a few shots at Harris, alright?” 

“Okay,” Ali said. She glanced from Paul to Ashlyn and back again. As Paul left to continue packing things up, Ali pulled a couple balls out of the last bag left on the field and lined them up on the penalty spot as Ashlyn headed back to her line. 

“So you think you can score on me tonight?” Ashlyn asked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Just for that, I’m sending this one at your face,” Ali quipped in return. Ashlyn exaggerated her offense at such a suggestion. 

“You wouldn’t,” she said. “You like my face.” Ali raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Who said that? Get ready, Harris. I’m really gonna go for it.” She picked up a ball and spun it in her hands before placing it down on the circle. Ashlyn clapped her gloved hands together and got into position on her line, watching Ali’s movements intently. Ali was keeping her head down, but she could still see how the defender was looking slightly to Ashlyn’s right. Ali stepped back, then started her run and let her shot loose, the same direction Ashlyn had guessed. She managed to get a fist to the ball and punched it out, flopping on the ground by the post. 

“That’s going for it?” Ashlyn teased, picking herself up. Ali was scowling and Ashlyn knew she really was frustrated. After a few more shots — of which about half went in a middle trajectory that Ashlyn could get to easily — Ali really was fuming. 

“Here,” Ashlyn said. She ran over to pick up a ball and joined Ali at the penalty spot. “I can see you’re trying to go for the upper corners, but your shots aren’t really getting there; it’s not consistent. What would really be difficult for me is if you just slotted it in the lower corner. It’s hard to dive so far so fast. As long as there’s enough power, you’ll get past me every time.” 

“Okay,” Ali said. Ashlyn gave her a smile and clapped her on the shoulder before getting herself back to her line and back in the zone. She let out a breath as she got into position and watched Ali’s movements closely again. She could tell which side she was going to — her right, again — but as Ali let the shot loose, a streaker that flew straight to that lower ninety, Ashlyn could tell she wasn’t going to get there. She dove to her right and stretched an arm out and the ball went right past her, hitting the net hard. 

Ali was over next to her in the next second, celebrating elaborately before helping Ashlyn to her feet. 

“Alright, teach,” she said. “Let’s go again.” 

Their first win came easy, then their second, then their third and they were heading straight for the finals. There was a longer break in between for proper recovery, some more training, and some much-needed time off and away from even thinking about the game. The area around the hotel they were staying in was beautiful, all beaches and rocky cliffs, and too-green hills. Most of the team took to running around, exploring to their hearts’ content. Others, traveled a little ways into the town and hit the shops instead. 

In their off time between games, Ashlyn took Ali down into town where they happily cheated on their diets by grabbing an ice cream each and walked up and down the streets, looking at all the shops. Empty cups discarded and bellies happily filled with the deliciously indulgent desert, Ashlyn reached out to intertwine her fingers with Ali’s. It was one of the warmer days there in Portugal. The sun beat down on them and Ashlyn breathed out contentedly. 

They turned back onto the main street, which had a great deal more foot traffic. Ashlyn could feel Ali’s fingers leave the back of her hand and then she broke away, seemingly drifting another step away from Ashlyn. She looked over at Ali, a question in her eyes, but Ali shook her head. 

Around the next corner, they began to head back towards the hotel and the flow of pedestrian traffic lessened until there was only an odd person here and there and Ali’s hand found Ashlyn’s again. Ashlyn didn’t have to ask. 

“I could feel their eyes,” Ali said quietly. Ashlyn wanted to kiss her temple there and tell her she was okay, but she realized that that would probably only make it worse. Sans liquid courage, Ali was still very reserved about showing anything. Ashlyn let her thumb caress the skin on Ali’s hand between her thumb and forefinger and smiled at her gently, hoping it was of some comfort. 

“I want to hold your hand in public,” Ali admitted. They were sat together on a large, plush armchair that honestly was big enough for about three people. Situated behind roughly everyone else in the room who had carted pillows and blankets out of their rooms to create a cushy place to sit on the floor in front of the TV. It was movie night and, in the darkened room, most everyone’s attention was fully focused on the television, which cast steely blue light over those laying closest to it, and Iron Man 2. So there they were, having a conversation in whispers they probably should’ve had anywhere more private. 

“I do too,” Ashlyn replied. She kept her eyes focused on the screen, but she’d seen the movie before and wasn’t much interested in it. 

“I just want to be able to be with you without people worrying about it so much.” 

“No one’s said anything, Al. We’re fine.” 

“They would…” Ali played with the zipper at the bottom of her sweatshirt. “I’m not talking about the team or even my family, but just…people.” 

“Can I hold your hand here?” Ashlyn asked. Ali rolled her eyes at her. 

“I suppose,” she teased, reaching out to grab for Ashlyn’s hand. The way they were curled up on the chair, legs bent and crossed over one another’s, each leaning on the opposite arm rest, their entwined fingers were hidden from view. Ashlyn looked into Ali’s eyes, watching how the blue light on her face cast shadows across her features. 

“I think I’m going to tell Kyle,” Ali stated. Ashlyn smiled a little at that, remembering his knowing looks. 

“He knows already, hun,” Ashlyn laughed quietly. Sobering, she said seriously, “But I think that’s a good step and I think he would really appreciate it.” 

The last game was an easy win as well, and after ninety minutes, the US celebrated their win. Ashlyn joined in the revelry happily but, in the back of her mind, a little voice nagged at her. How much did she really deserve this when she didn’t step foot on the field? 

“We are the champions baby!” Pinoe yelled, ripping off her shirt as they all got back in the locker room. A couple lockers down, Carli shook her head. 

“This isn’t the World Cup,” she said. 

“It isn’t,” Pinoe agreed, “But this will show the world…Watch out! We’re coming for them with guns blazing. The whole of Germany isn’t prepared for all this, right Kriegs?” 

“You’ll take Frankfurt by storm,” Ali agreed, rolling her eyes slightly. “Actually, I can’t wait to show everyone around…I mean, if I get on the roster.” 

“Shut up,” Mittsy said. “We all know you’ve locked down that starting spot. Pia was loving you out there.” Ali blushed, heading towards her locker. 

The way it was set up — one dozen of the teammates in a row to the left, the second on the other side of a middle bench and wide walkway, Ashlyn wasn’t placed very far away from Ali at all. She changed out of her pristine kit quickly, pulling on a button-down and chinos, and watched Ali out of the corner of her eye. Their gazes met as Ali, clad only in a sports bra and shorts, grabbed her things and began to head towards the showers. 

“You did good, babe,” Ashlyn mouthed at her. Ali smiled in return, tucking a strand of sweaty hair behind her ear. Watching as she left, Ashlyn wondered if that was always how it would be. Watching Ali succeed made her amazingly happy — she loved cheering her on as she went up for the hard tackles and made those great, dynamic runs up the right flank that she was known for. But she did wonder if one day Ali would be a star, and she would be left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kind reviews! I love hearing your thoughts, so keep them coming! As always, thanks for the read. 
> 
> Stay tuned for the 2011 World Cup in the next chapter!


	9. Whirlpool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some good things. Some bad.

She got the call a couple weeks before the roster was released. 

“Hello, Ashlyn.” It was Pia. “I hope you’re doing well. I wanted you to know how much we’ve appreciated having you in camp.” 

Her stomach churned. Her heart clenched. She knew this wasn’t the phone call she wanted to receive. 

“I think you’ve made a lot of progress and you’ve certainly helped both the other goalkeepers and the field players to better themselves as well. Unfortunately, we can only take three keepers with us to Germany.” 

There it was. 

“I’m sorry, but you haven’t made the cut.” 

The words still hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt the air leave her body and didn’t know if she ever would regain it again. The World Cup had been such a distant, lofty dream, but hearing that she definitely was not going crushed her. Maybe if she was taller. Maybe if she could read the game a little better. Maybe if she had made that save against Alex in practice. Maybe if she had taken more risks. Less risks. Maybe if she hadn’t fucked one knee after the other, setting her back by years. 

Maybe if she hadn’t been told from the age of thirteen that she would be the best in the world. 

Maybe if she hadn’t kept her hopes up so much, she wouldn’t be hurting so much. 

Part of the appeal had been Ali. There was always that hope in the back of her mind that they could go to Germany together, play together, train together, win together. It was all very grand in her mind, clearly playing out when they looked at each other on the practice pitch or huddled together to plan tactics for their 11 v 11 scrimmages. 

Ali’s hope had begun to wear off on Ashlyn as they spent more and more time together. Ali’s contract ended with FFC Frankfurt that spring and she moved back to the states so that she would be at the National Team’s beck and call. She never said, but Ashlyn could sense she’d already been given a green light for Germany. 

For a couple months, they’d existed in a different sort of limbo. Ashlyn went to New York to go apartment hunting with Whitney. She stopped off at Ali’s on the way back to Florida. Ashlyn played the best friend, something she hadn’t had to do in a relationship since college, and her dad didn’t ask questions. Her brother yelled at them indignantly when he heard that Ashlyn had completely skipped over New York City and didn’t go see him. 

True to her word, Ali had told Kyle everything that had happened between her and Ashlyn and he was absolutely ecstatic about it all. During a Skype call with the pair of them, Kyle proudly announced the miracle that was the Krieger family raising “two gaybies”, a term that Ali cringed at, her smile dropping slightly. 

Ashlyn had then gone back to Satellite Beach. She still had all her things to take care of and had to figure out the cheapest way to transport everything to New York. Ali followed her down there eventually, staying at her mom’s before driving the extra three hours to Ashlyn’s place. 

Laying together, Ali tried to teach Ashlyn her second language so that, when they finally did exist in that magical, perfect world of Ashlyn’s dreams, she could communicate properly. 

“Repeat after me,” Ali had instructed. “Ich bin die schönste Torfrau der Welt.” 

“Ich bin…” Ashlyn trailed off. She had gotten lost in Ali’s accent and the cute mumble and she had to admit she had no fucking clue how to pronounce the rest of anything that had come out of her mouth. Ali had laughed and repeated it again and Ashlyn said it back to her, knowing very well how horribly she fumbled up the language by the look in Ali’s eyes. 

“What does it mean?” she asked. 

“You might’ve told me you’re the most beautiful goalkeeper in the world,” Ali said, smiling with her tongue between her teeth. “And I would agree, but your accent is horrendous.” 

“Ashlyn? Ashlyn?” 

“Sorry, Coach,” Ashlyn said. Her voice cracked. “Um…thanks for letting me know.” 

“Keep up the hard work, Ashlyn,” Pia said. “I hope you have a good season with the Flash.” 

Ali was scheduled to come down to Satellite Beach the next day, but Ashlyn wasn’t in much of a good mood. She didn’t even want to get up to greet her. Her grandmother alerted her to Ali’s arrival, but Ashlyn didn’t get up and didn’t acknowledge Ali until she was sitting on the edge of the couch, resting a hand on Ashlyn’s thigh. 

“Ash,” she said quietly. Ashlyn’s eyes were unfocused, staring past Ali. She vaguely felt her move her hand against her leg but her entire body was too heavy to move. “Babe, you have to get up. Your grandma said you haven’t done much of anything since yesterday.” 

Ashlyn turned her head and Ali grabbed her hands to help haul her body into a sitting position. Once there, she slumped over, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. The weights inside of her seemed to drag on her so strongly she might’ve been pulled right through the cushions, through the floor, through the ground. 

Ali knelt in front of her and placed her hands on Ashlyn’s knees. “You know, things don’t seem very good right now,” she said, “but I want to help you feel better. Tell me what to do?” Ashlyn was despondent. Ali bit her lip and searched what little of Ashlyn’s face she could see, as if the answers to fixing her were written there. 

“Let’s go on a walk on the beach,” Ali finally suggested. “I bet you know a nice quiet place where we can just put out feet in the water.” 

The sea breeze was hot, but not yet oppressively so. Spring was just beginning in earnest and with it came a growing influx of tourists and spring-breakers. Ashlyn knew the beaches around her family’s places like the back of her hand and easily led Ali to a section that was usually more secluded. No one was around, thankfully, and the two of them just stood with the water lapping at their knees, staring out at the horizon. 

“I should’ve known I wouldn’t make it,” Ashlyn said finally. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

“Whether or not that’s true, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be upset,” Ali said. She rested a hand on the small of Ashlyn’s back. 

“I doubt I’ll ever get a chance. I’ve been called in and I’ve pushed my hardest, and it’s still not good enough.” 

“Look at me, Ashlyn,” Ali said. Ashlyn obeyed and Ali moved her hands to cup Ashlyn’s face. “You don’t get to control the choices Pia or Paul or anyone make. You can’t. But you can control yourself — your work ethic, your fitness, your drive. I don’t think you should give up. Take this and use it to get even better. Don’t take no for an answer.” 

Ashlyn blinked at her. 

There was massive support for the National Team in the world cup throughout the WPS. Each team had to bid a couple players goodbye as they packed up and headed to Germany. This meant wishing Alex good luck and wishing Marta and Christine not as much good luck and, for Ashlyn, saying goodbye to Ali, who had stopped by for only a couple days before she had to join the National Team again. 

“You’re gonna do so good,” Ashlyn said, hugging Ali before her taxi was supposed to come to take her to the airport. She didn’t want a big scene there, so they had to say their goodbyes early. “I expect many assists from that famous Krieger cross. Don’t be too nice to your old teammates.” 

“I won’t,” Ali said. “And maybe I’ll even try to score for you — who knows.” She winked at Ashlyn, whose heart stuttered a little at that. She could imagine a shot hitting the back of the net, Ali’s goal celebration just for her. 

“Oh, I have something for you,” Ali said. She reached into the front pocket of her bag and pulled out a folded black shirt — her jersey. “So you can rep your favorite player.” 

“You got me Abby’s jersey? You shouldn’t have,” Ashlyn teased. Ali glared at her, but got up on her tiptoes to kiss her lightly on the lips. 

“Be good,” she said. “I want to hear about all your amazing saves and how the Flash is crushing every other team.” Ashlyn grinned at that. She wasn’t too far off — their season was going really well so far. 

“Same,” Ashlyn said. “Call me when you can.” 

In between playing their own games — which, for the Western New York Flash, meant winning a good deal of them — there were watch parties for the US’s games, sometimes at a player’s house, sometimes at the stadium. Everyone gathered in one of the team rooms at Sahlen’s Stadium to watch the Brazil game because they knew there would be a large turn-out. 

“I can’t believe you,” Whitney said as they entered the room together, Ashlyn donning Ali’s jersey. She shook her head with obvious disgust. “You’re so whipped.” 

That game was the most intense, nerve-wracking, makes-you-want-to-scream-in-frustration sort of game. Ashlyn sat at the edge of her seat, teeth digging into the flesh of her hand slightly as she tried to keep from yelling constantly at the TV and the Brazilian players who were flopping around the pitch like fish on a boat. 

“Come on, come on,” Whitney was muttering beside her. In contrast, she was slouched back, as though if she wasn’t watching so closely, the US might slip in a goal to tie it up. 

Abby’s shot went over the crossbar, then Brazil was in possession again as the seconds ticked up. It looked utterly hopeless. Brazil was wasting time, holding the ball up in the corner, until Ali cut off a bad pass and began to usher the ball out of the back. 

“Yes, Ali!” Ashlyn said. Her leg was shaking. Ali passed to Carli. Carli passed outside to Pinoe. Pinoe sent in the cross and Ashlyn could hardly hear the screams of the commentator as the whole room went up in a tremendous roar. 

“OH, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT! ABBY WAMBACH HAS SAVED THE USA’S LIFE!” 

There was some more down time where the audience grew nearly as anxious as the players on the field. Ashlyn and Whitney tried to keep still in their seats as they hypothesized who would take the penalties. 

“Of course Abby and Cap, too,” Whitney said. “Boxxy, and maybe Carli and Pinoe.” 

Boxxy got hers in on the second try. Carli’s shot hit the back next. Marta snuck one in the lower ninety, follow by Abby sinking her shot easily. And then up went the cheers again as Hope made a save. They were up one and they just needed to put in the last two penalties to win. Pinoe did her thing. Brazil got another right in.

“And how fitting is this — Ali Krieger, who played her professional soccer here, in Germany, for the last four years for Frankfurt, has the opportunity to send the USA to the semifinal.” 

Ashlyn’s eyes widened to a comical size. “Did they really say Ali?” she screeched, looking over to Whitney. 

“Look, she’s walking up to the spot,” Whitney said, pointing. Sure enough, there she was — all clear brown eyes and hair pulled back in her signature bun — placing the ball down on the spot. 

“I can’t watch.” Ashlyn said. 

“You have to. She’d kill you if you didn’t.” 

“Please get it in, Alex,” Ashlyn murmured to herself, her hands in front of her mouth. Ali straightened and got into position for her run-up. Ashlyn’s eyes traced over her. “Lower right,” she said, seeing Ali step slightly to her left. She took her shot. The keeper dove. 

“AND THE USA ARE INTO THE LAST FOUR!”

After jumping around with Whitney and generally losing her shit, after watching as Ali ran across the field to the rest of the team, pure unadulterated joy on her face as she yelled and screamed in celebration, after watching the replays of the final penalty kick about five times, Ashlyn texted Ali. She didn’t expect a response right away, but she needed to let her know how extremely proud she was of her. 

“Alex! I can’t believe it!” Ashlyn started when she finally got a call from Ali a couple hours later. 

“I know!” Ali said, her voice higher than normal with her excitement. “They said I was taking the last penalty and I was like ‘oh no’, but we’ve been practicing together so much that I thought, you know, I might not be that bad at this.” 

“You were brilliant.” 

“I didn’t get a very good strike on it,” Ali said demurely. 

“Still aimed right,” Ashlyn said, “But if you’re going to do another one, try to be a little more secretive with your placing. I could read you from over here.” 

“Sure thing,” Ali replied. Ashlyn could imagine her rolling her eyes. “Hopefully we won’t ever have to do that again.” 

“I hope so, too,” Ashlyn said. She sighed. “I’m so proud of you, baby,” she said. “You’re honestly so amazing and I can’t believe I get to call you mine.” 

“I was thinking about you when I kicked it." Ashlyn smiled. A wave of emotion tightened her chest, a mix of things she couldn't describe but she just knew that she was oh so happy. "Ash,” Ali murmured softly. “Are you busy later? Can I call you again?” 

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Ashlyn replied. From the husk in Ali’s voice, she had a theory about what Ali wanted to do. 

“I miss you,” Ali said. “I wish you were here so badly.” And then Ali said something in German that Ashlyn couldn’t make out over the phone before she hung up. Ashlyn didn’t care. The only thing she was thinking was that she may have completely fallen in love with Alexandra Krieger. 

The final was devastating to watch. Ashlyn could feel her heart break for each of the US players on the field, each of them a friend, as they watched their penalties be denied and the Japanese celebrate, running across the field. The camera zoomed in on Ali’s face, her eyes wet with the beginnings of tears, and Ashlyn had to turn it off. 

She was upset about the loss, but she knew that the hurt she felt couldn’t compare to that felt by Ali and everyone else on the team. When Ali got back from Germany, she was distant and lost. After a brief stop at her dad’s house in Northern Virginia, Ali headed up to Buffalo to visit Ashlyn and watch her play against MagicJack. For Ashlyn, the game was incredible. The stadium was filled up with cheering fans. It didn’t even matter that they were there for Abby Wambach — the atmosphere was still charged, and knowing that Ali was watching made Ashlyn all the more pumped. 

The Western New York Flash had been having a stellar season. Ashlyn had really taken Ali’s advice to heart and used it to inspire her training and her performance in games. This game was no different. The Flash just had that extra edge that got them to a relatively simple 1-0 win over MagicJack, Ashlyn coming through with two huge saves. 

As she exited the locker room, her bag slung over one shoulder, Ashlyn saw Ali waiting just outside, back towards her. Ashlyn grinned to herself and, making sure she was stepping lightly, snuck up behind Ali and wrapped her arms around her. Startled, Ali gave a little squeak and fought to slip out of the embrace. Then, realizing whose arms had been around her, let out a relieved sigh and let Ashlyn pull her in for a tight hug. 

“Did you see that save in the second half?” Ashlyn asked. Ali grinned up at her. 

“Oh my god, yes,” she said. “You were an absolute beast today.” Ali pulled herself out of the hug, but kept herself close to Ashlyn’s side. “Let’s go back to your apartment. I’ve been hounded by fans the whole game.” 

Ashlyn could tell that Ali was struggling a little with her newfound popularity. The “All-American Girl’s German Adventure” storyline had been capitalized on by US Soccer and every other news outlet. Adding that with Ali’s PK that sent the US into the semifinals made for one very interesting player that fans wanted pictures with and autographs from. Newspapers wanted interviews. The local news stations wanted a segment each. And there were various other functions that Ali had to make appearances at. 

She stayed in Buffalo only a few days, long enough for Ashlyn and her to reacquaint themselves with each other, catch up with what little they could, and go out for an early birthday dinner as Ali would be spending her actual birthday with her family. 

“This is really nice, Ash,” Ali said appreciatively as she sat down across from her. An elegant table with a white tablecloth and little candles separated them. In the low light of the restaurant, Ashlyn thought Ali looked like a goddess. She had already taken her breath away in that cream dress she was wearing. Ashlyn had gotten them reservations at one of the nicest Italian restaurants in the area and, though her bank account was screaming angrily at her for it, she was ready and eager to treat her girl. 

“Only the best for you, Princess,” Ashlyn replied. 

They ate and drank and Ali proclaimed the place one of her new favorite restaurants, to which Ashlyn chuckled humorlessly and implored her to really reconsider that. When they left, they walked down the street arm and arm, both a little wine-drunk and Ali a little more affectionate because of it. Ashlyn was feeling warm all over and, with Ali’s hand running up and down her arm like that and the way she was looking at her, Ashlyn hoped they could get back to the apartment fast — and that Whitney would still be out. 

The first thing they’d heard was a sharp whistle, one that Ashlyn recognized well though it was hardly ever directed at her. Then they heard the raucous voices: 

“Give it up; I think they’re a couple dykes.” Ashlyn bristled. She knew Ali heard them clearly too from the way she jumped away from Ashlyn as though burned. She held her own arms tight around her body instead of Ashlyn’s, keeping her head down. 

“Nah, the brunette? She’s too hot to like pussy. Hey, baby! Ditch blondie and come have some fun with us!”

Ashlyn felt heat rise into her cheeks and she couldn’t stop herself before her shout left her lips. “Beat it and leave us alone,” she said. She moved to stand on the other side of Ali, blocking her from view of the tottering drunks across the street. She couldn’t block their swears and the trailing muttering of, “Fucking lesbians.” The parking lot was only a hundred yards ahead of them. They only had to make it that far. 

When they got to Ashlyn’s car, Ali stared quietly out the window, her eyes not meeting Ashlyn’s. Ashlyn sighed and patted her knee reassuringly, wishing she could go back in time and slug the lot of them across the face before they could say a word, but she couldn’t. Ashlyn had heard a wide range of angry shouting, both drunken and sober, directed at her because she was so obviously gay. After high school, she found it nearly impossible to hide and, really she didn’t want to. But Ali had never heard catcalls quite like those and Ashlyn could tell that she was a little shaken up. 

That night, Ali hadn’t been in the mood and Ashlyn didn’t blame her. They tucked into bed side by side and watched some TV before drifting off. Ali faced one way, her body closer to the edge of the bed than usual. Ashlyn watched her, but gave her her space, and eventually found sleep with her arms clutching her pillow instead of her girlfriend. 

Ali had to be away a lot for her various functions, appearances, and interviews. She always managed to call Ashlyn, like they would if she were still back in Germany, but the calls grew infrequent and Ashlyn found it increasingly difficult to connect with Ali, who was growing more and more unresponsive. 

“Do you think it was something I did?” Ashlyn asked Whit one day. They were watching Meerkat Manor in the living room of their apartment. Ashlyn had just hung up from another stilted phone call with Ali, who was in DC and had just been meeting with her agent. Ashlyn had thought she sounded upset, but Ali refused to admit to anything. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Ash,” Whitney said. “I think you two just need to talk in person.” 

Ali came up to visit again in early August. Ashlyn had been nervous about her arrival, knowing they had to talk about things, but as soon as Ali showed up at her door, all of that melted away. She jumped into Ashlyn’s arms, beaming widely and nearly knocking her over with the force of her excitement. Whitney had said a quick hello before excusing herself, allowing Ali to pull Ashlyn in for a searing kiss. Ashlyn moaned at the feeling of Ali’s lips hot on hers. She gripped the back of Ali’s shirt tighter as her legs gripped Ashlyn’s hips. 

“I missed you, beautiful,” Ali murmured into Ashlyn’s lips, nipping her slightly as she pushed Ashlyn down onto her bed. Ashlyn grinned as she watched Ali crawl over her, the gleam in her eyes promising. She reached out to run her hands up the back of Ali’s shirt, pulling it over her head. Then their lips found each other again and Ashlyn was lost in her. 

Ashlyn found herself starting to wake as she felt Ali shift out from under her arm. Ashlyn fluttered her eyes open, watching as Ali sat up and threw the covers off. In the dark, Ashlyn could make out the outline of Ali’s figure as she hunched over, head falling into her hands. She was breathing quickly, like she’d just been running. After a moment, she slipped out of bed and padded to the door, slipping through it quietly, and leaving Ashlyn alone in the dark. She turned to look at the clock on her bedside table. 4:37 am. 

Later in the morning, Ali seemed happy and fine as she sipped coffee over an interior design magazine. Only slightly confused, Ashlyn greeted her with a kiss and accepted the cup of coffee Ali proffered her — already fixed up just how she liked it. 

She was affectionate as they fixed breakfast together, dancing around Ashlyn and peppering kisses down her neck, where dark spots where already forming from the previous night. When they went out, she grew more quiet, hardly looking Ashlyn straight in the eyes let alone allowing the two of them to touch. 

“We’re just keeping what’s between us just to us,” Ali said. “It’s nice.” Ashlyn was less sure. 

It was like there were two different Ali’s — the one that was presented to the public, and the one that only Ashlyn got to see. What had once been something special they shared with each other, started to turn into a game of real and fake. Whenever Ali was recognized, which was often enough to weird Ashlyn out a little, Ali would staunchly ignore her, physically distancing them enough that Ashlyn could’ve been another curious bystander. She’d plaster on that smile and chat with whatever fan wanted the selfie or autograph and then, once they’d left, her face would drop again. 

“Hey, I got us reservations at that Mexican place you like,” Ashlyn said one afternoon. Ali looked up from her laptop. She’d been writing an email to her agent. 

“Can’t we just stay in?” she suggested sweetly. “We could cook together and watch a movie.” Ashlyn stared at her and the way her smile didn’t make her nose crinkle or her eyes shine. 

“Sure, Al,” she finally said. “Whatever you want.” And then she turned around and headed back to her room before she could get angry with Ali. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to grab lunch out?” Ashlyn asked the next day. “You love this place, and we’ve been cooking a lot. What’s up with you?” Ali let out a frustrated sigh. 

“I just don’t want to go out and have to deal with anyone recognizing me and asking for autographs or something. I’d rather spend time with you.” 

“Bullshit,” Ashlyn said. Ali jumped a little. “You’ve been out shopping before. You’ve been out with your family and Carm and by yourself while I’ve been at training. You just don’t want to go places with me.” Ashlyn knew she was right from the way Ali’s face grew red and she didn’t say anything back quickly. 

“Ashlyn, you know I don’t want anyone to know about us,” Ali said. Ashlyn scoffed at that. 

“Yeah, of course I know. I haven’t even really told my family because you don’t want people to know. But are you really going to let that change how we live our lives? Are you really so scared and ashamed of me that you won’t have lunch with me in public anymore?” Ali ducked her head like a dog being reprimanded. 

“I’m not ashamed of you,” she protested. 

Ashlyn lunged forward and grabbed Ali’s face between her hands, staring at her so intently it was like they would never see each other again. “Then why does it have to matter? Why should it? They don’t know us; nobody does. This — what’s between us — it’s beautiful and it’s ours.” 

Ali shook her head. “I can’t not care,” she insisted. “I’m a public figure. I’m a role model. I have sponsorships to worry about.” 

Ashlyn’s jaw tightened and she dropped her hands. “So this is about business. This is about Ali Krieger; scared she’ll lose business because no one wants to be endorsed by a gay athlete.”

“I’m not gay,” Ali replied sharply. Her eyes narrowed. “But I’m supposed to present this wholesome, American public image all the time and I’m scared I’m going to be obvious or someone will see something or — ”

“What, you’ll give off ‘vibes’ or something?” Ashlyn could feel herself growing hotter with anger. She couldn’t believe Ali. It was one thing to not feel comfortable with her sexuality; it was another to push aside their relationship for the sake of her ‘public image’. After all, Ali was the one who had started all of this. Ali was the one who had kissed her; who had wanted something more.

“Stop it, Ash. I don’t get why you don’t understand how I feel at all.” 

“Maybe because you’re not thinking about my feelings. You’re thinking about only yourself and I’m left as your dirty little secret. You play the all-American, wholesome, family-friendly soccer player in front of everyone, and then you come home and you fuck a girl in your bed and like it.” Ali shut her eyes, as though Ashlyn’s words had physically hit her across the face. She grimaced. 

“Don’t…say that…”

Ashlyn could feel that she was losing her; Ali was slipping away right before her eyes. She wasn’t fighting for them, not even in the slightest. In fact, she was fighting against them. 

“Why can’t this be enough, Ali? Why am I not enough for you?” 

“I don’t want people to judge me for who I love!” Ali yelled out finally. Her face was red and the hint of tears hung at the corners of her eyes. Ashlyn stared at her, standing stock still. She wasn’t sure whether she was more stunned by Ali’s sudden yelling or her sudden use of that word. 

“I can feel it all the time,” Ali continued, her voice growing strained. “It’s like this crawling on my skin. I can feel people looking at me and looking at us and just thinking and I hate it. Everyone is just so fucking concerned with it. I can’t deal with it.” Ali strode across the room and down the hall to Ashlyn’s bedroom. Ashlyn couldn’t even follow her halfway there because Ali was already walking back out, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Ashlyn felt herself grow icy cold. She had felt Ali pulling away before, but this was something that they really could not come back from. 

Ashlyn started to try and stop her, but she knew that Ali had already made up her mind. She was moving across the room with the sort of intensity she usually reserved for the soccer pitch. At the kitchen counter, she grabbed her charger. From the couch, she grabbed her sweater. “Ali, I don’t think it’s as big of a deal as you think — ”

“Don’t you get it?” Ali spun on her heels to face her. “I have to be this person for the team.” 

“Alex, the only person you should be obligated to be is yourself.” 

“I can’t. I have to worry about so many things now. You can’t understand it.” Then something unforgivable. “It’s not like you went to the World Cup.” 

Ashlyn sucked in a sharp breath and felt her face grow hot with rage. 

“Really, Ali? That’s just fucking wonderful.” 

“I can’t do this, Ashlyn. I just want to be normal.”

Then she walked out. She ran again, leaving Ashlyn standing there, staring after her. Ali had always been the one to pull Ashlyn out of the water, seconds away from drowning. Now, she was the one who had tied her limbs together and dropped her into the ocean and, try as she might to kick back to the surface, Ashlyn was just too tired. 

She flopped onto the couch with her head in her hands, choking back the mournful yell that was building inside of her. She reached out and flung the closest thing to her at the wall, hard enough that the shattered remains of her anger were plain to see on the hardwood floor. She supposed no one could watch TV for the next couple days with the state the remote was in, but couldn’t much bring herself to care. She was worn down and she was tired. She had grown tired a long time ago, truthfully, so she just let herself sink down further. It got darker and colder. And then it grew black, and she wondered if she’d ever be able to breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read, as always, and for the kudos and reviews! I'm a bit iffy about this chapter but...eh. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Next time -- Ashlyn deals with the aftermath of the break-up.


	10. Breakwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the huge delay! Between prom and my stupid sprained ankle, I just couldn't pull everything together. Anyway, it's here now and we are officially at the midway point of this fic!

The first person who left did it with a slammed door, hastily-packed bags in the back of his old truck — the one that smelled like the end of soccer practice and early morning trips to the beach when she was small and had him print tropical flowers across her board. That departure felt like an earthquake. The rumbling started and tossed her around and changed her world. 

The second departure was done in a whirlwind — not of nature, but of burning drinks and thick smoke and an anger so pure and intense she wondered how he had kept it all inside for so long. Maybe the whirlwind was of his nature and, therefore, her nature. Sure that he was gone, she stayed up late, wondering if that was how she would leave, too. 

The third departure was not the last and she expected that there would surely be more to come. But it did hurt the most, coming as it did as a steady fading away. First, it was one glass, and then another, and then it was midmorning spent buried under the covers, too far gone to ever get back up. Never remembering if it was a school day or a game day or if she had practice or even caring when she stayed out with friends or quit her softball team or skipped school to skateboard. 

It was the most painful departure because, in a way, she was still there. Ashlyn could see her physically in the crook of the armchair, in the kitchen digging through the cupboards, in the bathroom popping Aspirin. But she wasn’t really there — not like Ashlyn knew her. 

When Ashlyn herself departed, it was with a car full of backpacks and boxes and duffle bags with the intention of never seeing that house again. And it was not for what had left the house, but for what remained and the twisted mirror it created, a damned warning of her future. And if that’s what her future looked like, she was going to run far, far away. 

Coming back home hadn’t been in the cards, but Ali had convinced her and she had listened and it ended up better than she’d ever thought it could be. Where cynicism had grown like mold in a dark cupboard, new hope was breaking through. Her vision of the future was different because of Ali — she had someone in her life who loved her and kept her head steadily above the water and she now had her family, too. 

After her departure, Ashlyn’s vision of the future changed and, once again, it was because of Ali. 

Ashlyn didn’t operate on fearlessness per say, but the immense power that not giving a shit afforded her. That, coupled with anger, adrenaline, and the muscle she had gained while working out tirelessly to numb the pain she felt made for a player that was more than ready to tackle everything the Philadelphia Independence had to throw at her during the WPS Championship Final. 

To say that she was angry was an understatement — perhaps the understatement of the year. Her anger fueled her more than food ever could. As she threw herself around the box, saving shot after shot with skill, she didn’t quite care what happened to her or her body. It wasn’t fearlessness; that implied bravery. She just had nothing to lose anymore. 

As she stopped the final penalty, diving her way into a win for her team, Ashlyn ran around the field, living off of the roaring of the crowd and the roaring in her head of everyone who’d ever told her she wasn’t good enough. Her trainers who told her she couldn’t play. Her coaches that benched her. Analysts that wondered if she’d ever be as good as she was as a kid. Pia, who cut her from the roster. Ali Krieger, who broke her heart. 

Fuck them, Ashlyn thought as she kissed the beautiful silver trophy, Whitney by her side. This time, I won. 

Music thumped loudly in her ears under the glow of strings of lights that wound through the palm trees and across the wood railings. Ashlyn wove through the crowd with a drink in hand. Ever since Ali had left, she had felt as though something integral inside of her was missing. She couldn’t quite place what it was that could help put her together, but damned if she wasn’t going to try. Step one was to get rip-roaring drunk. 

The noise of the people, the action and lights around her, all made her somehow feel lonelier. She was floating amongst the crowds as people stopped to congratulate her, pulled her over with them to do a shot, sent coy looks her way. She was reminded of the parties at UNC, all thumping bass and heat and cool jungle juice and cheap beer. But something felt inexplicably different; like she could disappear into the wind right then and not a soul would care. 

As Ashlyn matched the gaze of a girl who had been looking at her for most of the night, she wondered if she was going backwards and, if she was, whether she would keep going backwards until she could never get herself righted again. She drained the rest of the red solo cup in her hand and tossed it in the trash as she strode up to the girl. Slim and petite with hair the color auburn that so obviously came from a bottle, Ashlyn realized she was nothing like her type. 

“Hey,” the girl said as Ashlyn approached her. She was leaned back against the walkway railing, back to the ocean. Her shirt was tight and low-cut and Ashlyn couldn’t help but look. 

“Hey,” she replied. She hesitated. The lines normally rolled off of her tongue in these situations but, looking at the girl, she felt so entirely off of her game and out of her depth. It all felt so wrong. 

They headed towards the house, far away from the beach and the waves until Ashlyn couldn’t hear the movement of the water at all. Her heart pounded and she downed another drink just to continue. When she woke up the next morning, the emptiness in her chest weighed her down into the pillows. Her head pounded. She didn’t want to cry, but she did anyway. 

Ashlyn didn’t exactly know how Abby found out about her and Ali breaking up, but she received a phone call from the forward congratulating her on the win and her Goalkeeper of the Year award and inviting her on a road trip with her and Sarah — Ali’s name wasn’t even mentioned. Ashlyn jumped at the chance and immediately said yes. After the celebrations had started to wind down, she was left with quiet and too much time to think about Ali and wonder where she was or what she was doing; whether she had already gone back to Germany.

“What exactly happened between you and Ali?” Abby asked one night. Sarah was out getting snacks and other essentials from CVS while Ashlyn and Abby kept Kingston company in the car. Ashlyn had taken to the wrinkly lunk of a dog from their first meeting over a year ago. He was sitting and slobbering in Ashlyn’s lap as she ran her hands down his rolls of skin, jiggling them. 

“Um…” Ashlyn pretended to be interested in Kingston, moving his limbs so that his weight shifted across her legs, wiping a bit of drool from her thigh. “Well, she decided that she couldn’t deal with the pressure of people maybe finding out and she bailed,” Ashlyn said simply. “I thought you knew.” 

Abby shook her head. “HAO called and let me know Ali had told her that you guys had broken up, but that was all.” Ashlyn bit her lip. So Ali was still telling HAO everything. She wondered if HAO thought she was the victim or if Ali was in the right. “She said Ali was crying a lot, if that helps at all.” 

Ashlyn’s breath quickened as she tried to fight off the tears again. She liked to think she hadn’t been a complete disaster post-breakup. She’d channeled most of that pain into her training regimen. Winning the WPS Championship had helped a little. And Whitney had been there to vent to and drink with. Still, she couldn’t help but get upset at the mere mention of Ali. 

“No, it doesn’t,” she replied sharply. “I don’t want…Look, I’m not going to feel better because Ali is upset, too.” 

“I think what HAO was trying to say is that she still cares about you. That wasn’t the reason things didn’t work out.” 

“Of course I know that!” Ashlyn shot back. She took a breath, taking her hands off of Kingston to press her fingertips into her temples. “That’s why I’m so…That’s why it sucks so much.” 

That had always been the problem, really. Even before everything had blown up that afternoon in the middle of Ashlyn and Whitney’s apartment, it had never been a question of whether Ali cared for Ashlyn. Ashlyn even thought Ali might’ve slipped up that day and, in some backhanded way, told her she loved her. That was always a given between the two of them. What was less certain was Ali’s self-love. 

It’s like this crawling on my skin. 

I have to be this person for the team. 

I just want to be normal. 

Kingston whined and sat up, moving his slobbery head to lick at Ashlyn’s chin and hands. Ashlyn looked at him sadly before pushing him away. “Kingston, no,” she said. His eyes looked hurt as well and Ashlyn felt even worse. It wasn’t his fault; he was only trying to help her in the way he knew how. 

For Ashlyn, the road trip was a much-needed escape from reality. The shenanigans they all pulled together served as a distraction for her. She was re-learning everything. How to laugh without thinking of Ali. How to smile and be entirely genuine about it. How to forget about Ali slowly.

She had made good progress by the time she made it back to Satellite Beach in early October, but as soon as she stopped by her mom’s house, she started to go downhill again. Maybe it was all the memories of lonely nights staring up at the darkest corners of her bedroom ceiling, watching the shadows morph with the rising moon and the flash of cars’ headlights through her window. She had had so many of those nights, up late wondering if the rustling from the other room was her mom getting up for another glass, wondering if her brother was okay, wondering if it was even worth going to school the next morning since she hadn’t done her homework anyway. 

Ashlyn was drowning again in her dream. Just the same as always, the wave snuck up on her, the girl on the beach waved in warning, and she was sucked under. She kicked out and sputtered against the salty water that invaded her nose and mouth, fighting the tide that was pulling her further away from the shore. This time, though, she was able to break free. Coughing, throat and eyes burning from the salt, her tired body could do little more than dog paddle to the shore. She collapsed onto her hands and knees in the shallow water, and then dragged herself onto the beach. 

Looking around, she got to her feet unsteadily and walked further up the beach. The dry sand crunched under her feet. She was looking for something, but she wasn’t sure what. Then it hit her. The girl. She searched the beach, but the expanse of sand was empty and silent but for the crashing of the water behind her. Further up, tall grass waved from atop shallow dunes. But there was nothing else to be seen. 

She called out again and again, but there was no one to hear her. Behind her, the sea was encroaching up the beach, further than it ever should have. She spun around, looking for any sort of human life, any slight noise, the glint of a boat in the distance. There was nothing and no one. The girl was not there to save her anymore and the water was up to her knees now. 

“This shouldn’t be happening,” she muttered to herself, staring at the water. The sand beneath her feet shifted and she lost her balance, falling backwards into the waves. “This shouldn’t be happening.” 

When she woke up, gasping for breath like a fish out of water, she was alone in her room. She shivered at the loneliness, but part of her was glad. She had been hooking up with a lot of girls since the party, but they were just that — hook-ups. Ashlyn realized she wouldn’t have known how to act if she really had woken up beside any of them. Still, she convinced herself that that sort of lifestyle was what she wanted. The less emotions involved, the better. If there was no real relationship to begin with, Ashlyn couldn’t be abandoned again. 

“Are you doing alright?” Ashlyn’s mom asked. Ashlyn was sitting at the kitchen table, eating her lunch, her mother across the table from her. “After the Final, you kind of disappeared.” 

“I’m fine. It doesn’t matter,” Ashlyn brushed her off quickly. She was surprised with how quickly the anger had risen inside of her at her mom’s question. She was one to talk about disappearances, Ashlyn thought bitterly. Though their relationship had improved with their reconnection, Ashlyn still couldn’t shake the bitterness and resentment she held inside of her. It was all still clinging there in the darkest parts of her and she didn’t know how, let alone have the energy, to get it out. 

“Is it a girl?” 

“Look, mom, you don’t get to tune out for almost eight years of my life and then swoop in like you understand what I’m going through and can fix anything,” Ashlyn said. She picked up her empty plate and walked it to the sink. “You can’t. You don’t have any clue what my life has been like.”

“I’m trying, Ashlyn,” her mother said, getting up from the table and holding out her hands. “I want to make this work. I’m trying.” Ashlyn pushed past her and out the kitchen door, deriving a twisted sort of pleasure from watching her distress. 

In a way, it was punishment for all the hurt she had caused Ashlyn as a teenager. Part of her just wanted to yell, “Why couldn’t you be this concerned when I was a kid? Why couldn’t I grow up in a normal family?” In a way, it was a power trip. Ali had forced Ashlyn’s hand, making her ache inside all the time. Ashlyn could do the same; could hold control over another being’s emotions just as easily. And so she did. 

She still couldn’t win in the weird game she was playing with herself, twisting others’ emotions each time her’s were pulled apart and torn. It was exhausting to feel so sad all the time. It was exhausting because she was putting everything she had into numbing her body and mind with training and then what little was left in her could hardly move for the crushing weight of it all inside of her. Even nights she mustered enough strength to go out and have a good time with her friends, she always came back worn out for all the wrong reasons. Even with a girl, she was worn out. 

“What do I do?” Ashlyn asked her grandmother one night. She hated how hopeless she sounded, sitting on the back porch with her, crying because that was a new regular pastime for her. In a way, it wasn’t even about Ali anymore. She was just sad, simple as, and she couldn’t bring herself out of it. 

“What I’ve learned over the years, sweet pea, is that you’ve got to respect yourself. I’ve seen so much, honey, and now I know that is the one thing you must learn how to do in order to be happy. Your dad got into some bad stuff, didn’t take care of his body. Same with your mom, and same with your brother. They haven’t treated themselves how they should. And same with you, now.” 

“At some point,” she said, “you have to look at yourself and say ‘I have to take better care of myself’ and you’ve got to work at it. It’s really hard, Ashlyn, but it’s something you need to do.” 

There were some things that were relatively easy to change. Ashlyn knew she had to take care of her body physically. She ate pretty healthy because she had to to be a good athlete. She exercised regularly and her trainer was pleased to see that she was beginning to ease off constantly pushing for more sessions, harder sessions, longer sessions always. 

She pulled out her board again and let herself get lost in the smell of brine in the morning and the feel of the rising sun at her back. She let sand crunch between her toes. She let her sneakers push off from the pavement as she listened to the familiar clack-clack of the skateboard over the asphalt. 

There were other things that were more difficult. It wasn’t difficult to tell what she needed in her life. Good food. Exercise. A place to live. Friends. Family. It was more difficult for her to procure some things than others. Her family was broken and it had been for quite some time, but that didn’t mean that she needed to be an island away from everyone, especially when there was someone ready and waiting for her to just open that door. 

Ashlyn fingered the handle on the front door of her old home for a long moment before she pushed it open and walked inside, calling out to her mother who emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands on an old towel. 

“Ashlyn,” she greeted happily. Ashlyn looked at her and then pulled her into a hug. Her mom made a noise of surprise and joy before patting her on the back. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Ashlyn said as she pulled away. “And I’m sorry I didn’t come back.” 

“You’re fine,” her mom replied, her smile a little watery. She patted Ashlyn’s cheek. “We’re still working things out together and that’s okay.” 

“I’m going to try harder,” Ashlyn promised. And she felt so much lighter. 

In another room that was strange to her, Ashlyn was pushed down onto the bed. The hand on her chest was small and delicate, just like the rest of the body that hovered over her. Originally, the differences between her and Ali had been comforting. She was supposed to be a distraction, after all, not a reminder. Now that they were there, in this girl’s room, she observed them like a weird presentation in comparison and contrast. 

The girl, who’s name Ashlyn could barely remember, started to climb over her, but Ashlyn quickly grabbed her around the waist and flipped their positions. Beneath her, the girl’s mouth opened in a breathy smile, her eyes dark. Ashlyn’s face was steely. She moved the girl further up the bed, completely in control. 

As she sat back on her heels to take her shirt off, Ashlyn looked down at her and, not for the first time over the course of her trysts and lays, wondered what exactly she was doing. Having fun, she told herself. She’s just a distraction. This is just stress-relief. It’s just pleasure, and that’s fine. She was entitled to this. It was the same series of things she’d told herself in college when she brought home girl after girl, not much caring who they were. 

It’s fun, she’d say as she used one to get over a loss. It’s fine to make myself feel good, she’d say as she used another couple to forget about the pain in her knee, to forget about the save she’d missed, to forget about the drunken message her brother had left her. Each time, she would get what she wanted, but she would always be left with a hollow feeling inside. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing,” Ashlyn said quickly, throwing her shirt off the side of her bed. She used her. 

Her birthday had started off fine. She had a small party with her close friends from Satellite Beach and her family. Her brother was there with a few of his friends as well and everyone was more than glad to deliver her twenty-six (plus one for good luck) birthday whacks and they did so with painful enthusiasm. They laughed and played games and ate plenty of food late into the night until finally they decided to pack up and head in. 

Ashlyn and Chris drove home with their mom and headed to their old rooms to crash. It was there that Ashlyn found another present — a tweet from Ali Krieger. It was a simple ‘Happy Birthday’ tweet directed at her, but Ashlyn stared at it for minutes on end, simply trying to comprehend why. 

She’d unfollowed Ali on social media in order to avoid checking up on what she was doing. It was part of her plan to treat herself better. She didn’t need to know what Ali was doing or who she was seeing. Ali had unfollowed her back. They hadn’t spoken to each other since August. Ashlyn was up half the night trying to understand Ali’s motives for that simple tweet. Once again, Ali was entirely in control of Ashlyn’s emotions and she hated her for it. 

After the tweet, there had been a couple phone calls, spaced weeks apart. Each time, Ashlyn had stared at the caller ID on her phone, listening to each ring, counting them. And then the phone would go silent and there would be no message. Ashlyn didn’t know what Ali was doing, but she was reminded of her mom’s reconciliatory phone call the previous year. Ashlyn heard Ali’s words again — how she’d regret it if she didn’t pick up the phone and talk to her mom — but she still couldn’t bring herself to answer Ali or call her back. She had decided that she wasn’t going to leave herself open to that sort of heartbreak again. 

She finally had to face Ali for the first time since they’d left things with slamming doors and intractable statements back in August at the December training camp in Carson, California. From what little information her other teammates had supplied her with, Ali had been pretty off the radar with all of them. Ashlyn would always brush off their updates, but she was secretly glad of them. Curiosity had struck her and hadn’t let her go since her birthday. 

“How do you want to deal with this?” Ashlyn had never been more relieved to get Whitney as her roommate. Seeing her name on the line across from hers as she checked into the hotel had almost made her weep with relief. She knew that, with Whitney there to keep her sane, this camp might not be the worst. 

“I think we’ll just try to coexist,” Ashlyn said. Even as the words left her mouth she knew she was bullshitting herself. Why would it ever be that simple? “We don't necessarily need to talk. She can have her space and I can have mine.” 

“Right,” Whitney said, drawing the word out to fill it with sarcasm. “Are you sure it’s going to be that easy?” 

“No,” Ashlyn replied. “But I’m hoping she doesn’t want to try anything. I still don’t know if I can be her friend.” 

She thought back to the birthday tweet, which she had left unanswered. Was that Ali’s attempt at reconnecting? Was that her reaching out to Ashlyn, or was she merely being polite? Either way, Ashlyn had no idea how to respond to that. Despite the deal they had made when they first met, she and Ali had hardly been friends before the charge between them became too much. She didn’t know how to be friends with Ali and, as far as she knew, Ali didn’t know how to be friends with her either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read, as always. Your comments are so kind and I love each and every one of them. Let me know what you thought of this one! 
> 
> Next time: look forward to Christmas sweaters, and maybe a fight?


	11. Impact Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An argument and a discussion and maybe a resolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, bit late on this one too. Hopefully will be putting the next one up next Tuesday (also cuz I like the next chapter a lot). 
> 
> Further updates: Ankle is doing great; hamstring is dead. Gotta get that better for the summer season.

Ali had always been too beautiful for her own good. She was the kind of beautiful that Ashlyn had a hard time believing existed in real life. But there she was, in all her glory, standing in the hotel lobby with HAO and Stephanie and looking like that. It was unfair, the way her hair fell softly over her shoulder, the way her hand swept through the dark brown waves so casually as her nose crinkled at whatever story HAO was telling. 

It was especially unfair because, up until then, Ashlyn had been doing better. Then she had been faced with Ali and the tumult of emotions had resurfaced as though on command. The hurt was still there, a raw open wound. The feelings she had for Ali were all still there as well. She didn’t want to say love or even think the word, but her mind had played with it while they had been together and the memories of that were still there. 

It made Ashlyn sort of hate her. Or, at least, she hated the way Ali’s smile seemed to come so easily to her, so naturally. She hated the way she could laugh with her teammates and the way she seemed so happy. Was Ashlyn the only one still hurting?

“It hurts because you still care,” Whitney had said not long after the breakup. “It hurts because when someone you love does something that shitty, it’s hard to let it go.” 

Looking at her then, Ashlyn knew that despite all the time that had passed, she did still care about Ali deeply. Ashlyn paused in her tracks and watched her for a moment before Whitney tugged on the sleeve of her sweatshirt and directed her past the little group and over to the conference room where breakfast had been set up for them. After such a long break from seeing her, Ashlyn was struck by her beauty full-force. She could barely think. 

“Ash, you can’t just look at her like that,” Whitney muttered in her ear as she directed her to the buffet line and shoved an empty plate in her hands. 

“Like what?” Ashlyn replied. She glanced behind them. Ali, HAO, and Stephanie were walking in together. 

“Like she’s got the freaking key to life locked away in her eyes or something sappy like that,” Whitney replied as she shoveled eggs onto her plate. “You’re supposed to be getting over her.” Ashlyn didn’t say anything, so Whitney continued on her tirade. “You need to move on. And by ‘move on’ I don’t mean ‘fuck random girls’. That’s not healthy, Ashlyn. You’re not helping yourself.” 

Ashlyn had gone to battle with many of her demons. She’d tackled her parents and she’d reevaluated what she had done in order to forget about the pain Ali had put her through. But there were still things she hadn’t touched yet that, she had to admit, she was scared to even think about. Love. Relationships. What the fuck she was doing with all those girls. 

“I’m protecting myself,” Ashlyn argued, but it sounded empty to her own ears. Whitney sighed. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” she said. Her eyes grew sad then. “I’d rather see you happy.” 

Ashlyn nearly laughed at that. She hadn’t felt really, truly happy in such a long time she sometimes wondered if such a feeling existed anymore. She doubted she would ever find perfect happiness in her lifetime because she realized, staring at that girl out of the corner of her eye, that despite everything that she’d been put through, a part of her would always want Ali back. 

Being that close to Ali was like existing in a ballet. They danced around each other nearly literally, playing games where they’d pass by each other and quickly turn the other way, where other teammates would hurry to serve as a buffer between the two of them, where Ashlyn would always ask a teammate to accompany her everywhere just in case she might run into Ali. 

Ashlyn wished that the captains could pick teams for their scrimmages like they did it back in school in PE class. Normally it wasn’t an issue, but neither Dawn nor Pia knew what they were doing when they put Ali and Ashlyn on Abby’s team. 

They were playing 7 v 7 with four different teams that rotated on and off. Carli, Abby, Christie, and Shannon were the designated “captains” of each team, but Pia and Dawn directed which players would join them. Ashlyn was placed with Abby while the others were each paired with one of the remaining goalkeepers. Then they added Alex Morgan, Tobin, Buehler, new call-up Christine Nairn, and finally Ali. 

The teams broke away to get pennies on — Ashlyn’s team wore bright green over their red training kits while she stayed in her standard shirt — and discuss their strategy. Abby pulled them all into a huddle, Ashlyn on one side of her and Ali clear across the circle. 

“Okay, so we need Buehler to stay back but Kriegs should have full reign on that right side. Nairn can play holding mid. Just try to direct the ball out of traffic and get it wide to Tobs or Krieger. Then just keep the passes at Alex’s feet and let Baby Horse do her thing, or you know how to send them in for me.” 

The team all agreed to the plan, then put their hands in for a quick cheer. Ashlyn thought she felt the whisper of Ali’s touch on her hand and pulled it back as quickly as she could once their huddle broke, pulling on her glove and securing the strap tightly. They were one of the first teams to go out, facing Christie’s team, so Ashlyn strode towards her goal, swinging her arms to loosen up. 

Ali and Rachel followed behind her. She let out a sigh, knowing she’d have to do a defensive huddle as well to make sure that they were all on the same page. Turning, she saw the two defenders looking at her — Rachel with the mild interest of a teammate, Ali with some strange mix of hesitance and want which made Ashlyn shiver and want to turn back the other way.

“Um, just stick to what Abby said,” Ashlyn told her defenders. “You’ve got A-Rod to watch out for, so if she’s making a break just get back fast.”

A hand caught her wrist as they broke the huddle. “We can work together, right?” Ali murmured. Ashlyn’s eyes flickered to Buehler, who was now too far away to hear. 

“Yeah,” Ashlyn agreed easily. “We’re fine.” The last bit was a lie and she knew it, but Ashlyn was going to remain a good teammate. And she wanted to win. Ali smiled at her answer and released her wrist, maybe caressing it slightly as she pulled her hand away. Ashlyn shook herself to clear her head as she walked the other way. She didn’t want to let Ali mess with her head, but everything she did seemed to confuse and distract her. 

The teams were pretty evenly matched. On the opposite end of the field, Cap and Whit kept Alex and Abby locked down, taking away a good deal of their chances. Towards Ashlyn’s side, A-Rod wasn’t fooling Buehler, who knew exactly how the jumpy forward operated. She and Nairn stayed back more than Ali, who would strip the ball off of KO or Lori and start her run down the right-hand flank, sending cross after cross over to Alex or Tobin. 

They were doing fine, holding to a 0-0 stalemate, until Christine let herself get trapped at the end line by KO and gave away the corner. Ashlyn immediately started directing the defense as she situated herself in prime placement to protect the goal. Yael set the ball down at the corner and took a step back. Ashlyn kept her eyes on her. She was a specialist so she knew something tricky would be coming her way. 

The ball arced in front of her. Ashlyn watched its trajectory as it crested over the clump of players that jockeyed for space in front of the goal. Ashlyn was getting a good read on it so she bent her knees and sprung up to punch it out of the box. Her body collided with something hard before her fists could meet the ball and she was falling back the other way. Her back hit the grass with a heavy thump and she heard cheers as the ball hit the back of the net. 

“Woo! Thanks for taking out your own keeper, Kriegs!” KO hollered happily. 

Ashlyn grimaced and pushed herself up into a sitting position. Next to her, Ali was laying on her stomach, pulling herself to her knees as well. Ashlyn watched her, letting anger grow and fester inside. She had had that ball. That would’ve been an easy save if she hadn’t been trucked by her own defender. Instead, she looked bad — unable to arrange her own box properly. 

Both back on their feet, Ashlyn stepped in front of Ali before she could move down the field for the kick-off again. Ali looked up at her with some confusion. Her hair was a bit awry from the collision. A couple bits of wet grass stuck to her neck. 

“Next time, let me do my job,” Ashlyn said, pointing a gloved finger at her. “I had that ball easy.” Ali backed up a step, affronted.

“I’m sorry,” she said defensively, holding her hands up. “Next time tell me what to do. Actually talk to me.” Ashlyn clenched her jaw. Ali’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said we could work together fine.” 

“We can,” Ashlyn insisted. “You just do your job, and I’ll do mine.” The dismissive answer seemed to set Ali off even more. 

“Well your job involves talking to your back line.” Ashlyn raised her eyebrows at the defender, whose hands were clenched in little fists at her side. Ashlyn knew she wasn’t talking about the game anymore. That much was certain. 

“Funny, Krieger,” Ashlyn retorted humorlessly, “because it’d be a lot easier to talk if you didn’t fucking run away every time things get serious.” Ashlyn knew they were causing a scene, but she couldn’t back down then. If Ali wanted to spin things around and have this fight there, she wasn’t going to let her win. 

“I tried to call. You wouldn’t pick up the phone.” 

“After the shit you said to me? Tell me another joke. You’re on a roll, here.” Ali’s eyes flashed and Ashlyn thought she might jump at her. She reached for the velcro on her gloves, ready to rip them off if need be. She was practically shaking with the energy that flowed through her. Then an arm clamped down on hers and she saw another player grab hold of Ali. 

“Alright, Ali, Ashlyn,” Christie said, her voice taking on her ‘strict mom’ tone. “Let’s calm down and walk away.” Ashlyn glanced over to see Whitney holding onto her arm. Her friend gave her a withering, disappointed look. Ashlyn sighed, shaking her off and making her way over to the sideline as Boxxy’s and Carli’s teams took the pitch. 

“What the fuck was that?” Abby yelled at them as they grabbed water bottles off the bench. “Look, I love you both but the one thing I told you two was to keep it professional. You keep your personal life off the field.” 

“What is going on?” Christie asked them, arms crossed over her chest. Ashlyn looked down at her boots. Beside her, Ali’s arms were crossed petulantly as well. “Ladies, you are on a team here — playing at the highest level of the game. We don’t have time for this and we don’t have need of it. We’re preparing for an Olympics here.” Glancing up, Ashlyn saw Pia and the rest of the coaching staff eyeing them. She wondered if they would get an earful from them, too. Around them, other players were milling about, trying to look away, but Ashlyn could tell they had a wide audience. 

“We were just having a disagreement, Cap,” Ashlyn said. “I’m sorry; it won’t happen again.” She looked over to Ali and nudged her with her elbow. 

“I was entirely unprofessional. It won’t happen again,” Ali added. 

“Fine,” Christie said, “But you two are working this out…Off the field.” She gave them a look that they most-often saw directed at Rylie Rampone whenever the girl got into trouble. Ashlyn and Ali both nodded seriously. Ali then put her water bottle back on the bench and walked away. She was halted by Christie’s voice again. 

“In the meantime, cool your anger with some laps — both of you, right now.” 

Ashlyn groaned. If there was one thing she hated, it was distance running. They started off together, not saying a thing to each other, but Ali was keeping a fast pace and Ashlyn started to fall behind — first one step, then two. As she was beginning to grow even more frustrated with Ali and herself, Ali slowed to match her pace. She looked over and nodded at Ashlyn and broke her rhythm to pat her on the back and say, “Alright, let’s go,” to her encouragingly. 

Ashlyn begrudgingly worked with Ali for the rest of that day’s training, but their interactions were obviously strained. More and more teammates were looking at the pair of them out of the corners of their eyes, whispering about them. Ashlyn felt the back of her neck prickle. Looking over at the way Ali seemed to shiver constantly, she knew she felt the same. 

They saw each other next by the ice machine. Each of them was freshly showered and dressed in sweats and t-shirts. Ali’s hair was still damp and hung down her back in a disorganized mess. Ashlyn could only think of mornings spent with her, Ali fresh out of the shower, her wet hair leaving trails of water down her back and Ashlyn’s back, and all over the sheets. She shook herself again. 

“Here, I can get that for you,” Ali offered, holding out her hand. Ashlyn hesitated only a second before passing Ali the bucket. She filled it with ice and gave it back, though she didn’t let go immediately, forcing Ashlyn to really look at her. 

“What happened on the field today,” she started. “I don’t want things to be like that between us.” 

“Then we should both keep our cool next time,” Ashlyn replied. “Like Abby said, our personal lives have to stay off the field.” She started to turn, but was stopped by Ali’s hand on her shoulder. 

“Wait,” she said. “I didn’t mean it like that.” She sighed. “I meant that I want to fix things between us. We’ve been in camp for five days now, and we haven’t said a word to each other until today.” Ali glanced at her feet before meeting Ashlyn’s eyes shyly. “I miss you.” 

Ashlyn swallowed thickly. What was she supposed to say to that? Her entire being ached for missing Ali, but that wasn’t a reason for them to simply forget about everything that had happened. 

“I don’t think we should be talking about this here,” Ashlyn said. 

“Come to my room?” Ali suggested. “I just want to talk; I promise.” Ashlyn bit her lip, but agreed and followed Ali down the hallway. Ali took the ice bucket from her and tucked it in the mini fridge along with her own to keep it all from melting. She indicated the vacant chair across from her bed. Ashlyn sat down somewhat stiffly and waited for Ali to begin. 

“I’ve been trying to get you alone to talk, or even just say sorry, but it’s like you’ve hired Whitney to be your personal bodyguard,” Ali tried to joke. Ashlyn didn’t crack a smile. 

“What you did really hurt, Ali,” she said. 

“I know I shouldn’t have said that stuff,” Ali said. “I was scared and upset and it just came out. I’ve been trying to apologize the entire time. From the moment I left, I’ve wanted to apologize.”

Then why did you do it? Why didn’t you come back? If you were so sorry, why did you wait so long to call? If you were so sorry, why didn’t you turn right back around and say it to my face? The thoughts, all accusations, popped into Ashlyn’s head and disappeared one by one. Then, the most important one: Why don’t you understand why this hurts so bad? 

“It wasn’t that. I mean, what you said really hurt me, but what was worse was that you left again.” Ashlyn shook her head, wondering if Ali could really ever understand what was going on in there. “I’ve had to deal with too much of that — everyone in my life skipping out on me and leaving me alone…I can’t, Ali. That’s probably the worst thing you could’ve done to me.” 

You promised you wouldn’t, she added to herself. It had been a promise of long ago, back when Cancun was still fresh in their minds and the connection between them was so magnetic Ashlyn had forgotten about her long-distance rules and Ali had given in despite her confusion. 

She watched as Ali’s face dropped. 

“Ash…” Ali breathed out. It was a plea, and Ashlyn knew what the plea was for. 

Tell me what to do to fix this, her eyes screamed. Tell me how to make this better. Ashlyn was filled again with that sense of power. She was in control of where this conversation went. Ali was the one ready to beg on her knees for forgiveness. The malicious part of her first thought to make her suffer. The part that was still intensely, unequivocally in love with Ali wanted to end this as soon as possible with declarations of forgiveness, promises that this would never happen again. The scared, hurt part of her wanted to put up her walls and block Ali out. 

Protect yourself, her body screamed at her. Don’t let your heart hurt like this ever again. 

Treat yourself better than this, her Grandma’s voice said in her mind. 

“Ash, I know I fucked up really badly, but I spent a long time trying to figure everything out. Just give me a chance to prove that I can be worthy of your trust and affection. I want things to go back to how they were before.” 

Ashlyn swallowed thickly. “I don’t think we can ever go back to what we had before,” she said seriously. The words stuck in her throat. She spoke at little more than a whisper. “And even if we could, I don’t want to be your dirty little secret, Ali. I think…” She took a deep breath. “I think I deserve better.” 

“I know,” Ali said, equally as serious. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and then continued on. Ashlyn could tell she was picking out her words carefully. “I told Kyle everything. I told him everything that happened and what I was feeling. I had been so caught up in this fear of what people would think of me because I don’t look like…I mean, I’d never seemed like…” 

“You look straight,” Ashlyn supplied. Ali bit her lip and nodded. 

“But talking with him helped me realize that I could force myself to live out the life I’d thought I’d have since I was a little girl, or I could choose happiness.” Ali twisted her fingers together nervously. “Ashlyn, I don’t think I could truly be happy without you.” 

Ashlyn’s heart pounded faster for a different reason. She had calmed her anger at Ali and all that was left was the remnants of hurt and the tendrils of affection she still held for the defender. And wasn’t this what she wanted? This admission that Ali was wrong all along and that she wanted to fix things? 

“I told my parents about you,” Ali said. Ashlyn ran a hand over her face, overcome with emotions she really couldn’t name. She knew that that was a big step for Ali. It was one thing for her to talk about her feelings with Kyle, who already knew about their relationship, but Ali had been adamant about not telling her parents while they were dating. 

“They were wondering why I was so upset all the time. I told them about us and that we broke up because I was so ashamed to admit I was attracted to women that I let my fear and hatred ruin our relationship.” 

“What did they think?” Ashlyn asked. 

“Dad said, ‘Oh, Ashlyn? You didn’t think I could tell?’” Ali laughed a little and Ashlyn joined her. “I didn’t think he was that observant,” she admitted. 

“Hard not to be when you played footsie with me at his dinner table,” Ashlyn replied teasingly. It was easy. It had been amazingly easy to flip the switch, just like that. Suddenly, Ali was grinning at her. Ashlyn was smiling in return, knowing that they were both transported back to that dinner in her dad’s house and how Ali had run her sock-clad foot up Ashlyn’s calf, nearly making her choke before she realized what was going on. 

As their laughter subsided, Ashlyn and Ali stared at each other in silence. There was something different between them, a peace and calm that hadn’t existed in months. Even towards the end of their relationship, this hadn’t existed between them. Ashlyn finally relaxed into the chair. 

“So…” Ali prompted. Ashlyn’s smile faded. There were difficult decisions to be made and, as much as Ashlyn wanted to fully give herself to Ali, she knew that there were still issues that prevailed despite their little heart to heart. 

“I don’t know, Ali,” she said with a sad sigh. “We could try to be friends.” Ali’s jaw went slack and her eyes dulled. Ashlyn hated that she had caused that, but she had convinced herself already that that choice was for the best. After all, hadn’t the problems first arisen because they’d hurried into this relationship that Ali wasn’t ready to accept or understand? 

“Friends,” Ali said. She took a deep breath and mustered a watery sort of smile. “I think we can do that,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read, everyone! Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Next time, look forward to a little flashback and a nice trip to the beach.


	12. Undertow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you can't help being pulled back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter one, but without a huge wait in between! 
> 
> Also, leg update: all healed up and ready to go. (But I'm playing co-ed now and I'm terrified)

That fateful day that Ashlyn decided to buy a new surfboard was a day in which she felt newly freed; almost as though she had been reborn. It wasn’t the same as her old one, whose surface was covered with tropical flowers of all colors, her father’s design, but it was damn good enough for her to ride waves, and that was all that mattered. And all it had taken to get her back on her board was a trip to the aquarium. 

She had of course been to the aquarium before — all kids went, really, at one time or another. Florida had some especially good ones, considering their location, with especially comprehensive conservation and rehabilitation centers. But this time was different. 

Completely unprompted, she had driven up to the nearest one in her Jeep and made her way through the exhibits, even stopping to pet a little stingray in the open tank and feed it a little fish from her hand, before she paused in front of the hall of sharks. Exactly what it sounded like, she knew that, as soon as she walked down that wide hallway, the dark floor bathed in eerie blue light from the water, she would be surrounded by sharks. 

“What’s the hold-up, Bay Watch?” an aquarium employee asked her. It was the girl from the open exhibit that had given her the fish for the sting ray. She was cute — light brown hair in a pony tail, blue polo shirt and khaki pants. Ashlyn was pretty sure she would normally have to pay for the fish, but the girl hadn’t insisted. She looked at the name tag on her polo — Rachel. 

“Bay Watch?” Ashlyn asked in reply. Rachel pointed to her hair. 

“Bleach blonde; I assumed you’re a surfer.” 

“Sort of,” Ashlyn said ruefully. “I sold my board a while back.” 

“That’s a shame. Why?” 

“Truthfully?” The girl looked at her with curiosity. Fuck it, Ashlyn thought. “I’m terrified of sharks. I had a close call with one a while back, and I haven’t been back out there since.” 

Ashlyn expected her to laugh. Really, she didn’t know why she was opening up to this girl — a stranger who she otherwise might’ve had a chance with, if she hadn’t lost all those ‘cool points’ with her lame story. Instead, Rachel put a hand against Ashlyn’s shoulder and directed her down the hall of sharks until they stood in the middle, looking at one of the tanks where, within, the creatures swam with sharp lines. Everything about them was sharp, from the tips of their noses to the tips of each fin and tail, and they way they seemed to shimmy before rapidly changing direction, again and again. 

Ashlyn tried to keep herself from shaking. It was embarrassing to react so strongly to a bunch of fish who were behind basically impenetrable glass, but she couldn’t stop herself. 

“Calm down,” Rachel said. “They can’t get to you. And, anyway, they wouldn’t want to.” 

“Have you seen Jaws?” Ashlyn scoffed. Rachel rolled her eyes. 

“It’s always Jaws,” she sighed. “It’s so unlikely to be attacked by a shark, it’s more common to be struck by lightning. Sharks don’t hunt humans, they don’t want to eat humans particularly, and there are very few cases of people dying from shark attacks. Sometimes it’s a matter of wrong-place, wrong-time. Sometimes a shark will mistake a human for a seal or something it does actually eat. You have to remember, though, that the water is their home, and you are just visiting. They’re trying to go about living their lives as well.” 

Ashlyn was quiet. She started to look around at the different sharks that passed in front of her. Some had spots, some skimmed the ‘ocean floor’. Others looked similar to Great Whites. She recognized a hammer-head and failed to recognize another breed that seemed to have a saw for a face. It would’ve been comical if Ashlyn wasn’t still filled with anxiety at the sight of them. 

“They’re not out to get you,” Rachel continued. “They’re going about living in the ocean, just like you’re going about surfing in it and, occasionally, there are conflicts, but they’re never intentionally out to get you.” 

“So…you’re saying that I should get back out there.”

“I’m saying it would be a shame to stay away from something you love just because you think you’ll get hurt because of something that rarely ever happens.” Rachel smiled at her softly. “Come on, let’s meet Greg. He’s my favorite of the Sand Tiger Sharks.” 

“Is everything sorted between you and Ali?” Christie asked as they headed back into the hotel after a training session. 

“Yeah, actually,” Ashlyn replied, her lips upturned in a small smile. She could see Ali ahead of her, already nearing the elevators with a couple other teammates. That walk was distinctive, with a sort of masculine swagger that had surprised Ashlyn. Ali was such a princess in most other ways. 

“Good,” Christie said, rubbing a hand on Ashlyn’s back. “The gals shouldn’t be fighting with one another. And you know you can come to me if there’s ever a problem, right? Either of you, or both of you. I won’t judge and I won’t pick sides and I’ve been married awhile now, so I’m great at couples counseling.” Ashlyn’s jaw dropped. 

“How did you — ”

“What, you think I’m completely oblivious because I’m the mom of the team? You’ve got another thing coming, Harris. Momma knows and sees all.” 

Ashlyn ended up walking away with the strange sense that she’d actually been chewed out by her real mother. She said a silent prayer for Rylie and Reese Rampone, who would actually have to grow up under the watchful gaze of all-knowing, all-seeing Captain Christie Rampone. She smiled to herself, honestly touched by how willing Christie was to support both her and Ali as they worked everything out. She did wonder, however, how much she knew. 

Being friends with Ali Krieger again didn’t mean that they spent all their time together like they would’ve in the past. Ashlyn was thankful for it. Her stomach had been flooded with familiar flutterings that she recognized as plain old no good. Easing back into an amiable relationship with Ali was the most preferable option. She had time to calm her fluttering heart and stomach as well as get her head focused back on soccer where it belonged. And it allowed the two of them time to re-follow each other on social media. 

“What are you grinning at?” Whitney asked as she set her plate of breakfast down next to Ashlyn’s. Ashlyn was staring at the little notification on her phone and she couldn’t help it, really. She opened Twitter and followed Ali back. 

“Nothing,” Ashlyn replied, putting down her phone and picking up her fork to shovel a bit of sustenance into her before they all had to mosey out to the vans for another long day of training. 

On the field, Ashlyn and Ali said hello to each other as they passed one another during warm-ups. The rest of the day didn’t have them cross paths again as their workouts were separate, but at the end of the session, Paul told the keepers that they’d be taking a few PKs to round things out and Ali was one of the field players to help out. 

They had enough goals set up for each keeper to take one and each field player to stick with a keeper while the rest of the players put the cones, flags, and other equipment in the vans. Ali gravitated to Ashlyn immediately and Ashlyn found she didn’t mind. It was like old times, training before the World Cup. 

“Are you prepared for my game-winning PK?” Ali challenged her as she set a ball down on the spot. Ashlyn got herself into position on her line and beat her gloves together menacingly. 

“You forget that I know how to read your shots, Princess,” Ashlyn returned. “The question is, are you ready for my WPS Championship-winning save?” 

“Oh, we got a hotshot over here,” Ali laughed. She narrowed her eyes at Ashlyn. “I’ll make sure you can’t read my shot,” she promised before starting to get herself in the zone. 

Ashlyn watched Ali’s lead up to the shot, the way her body moved and angled, the little ways her hips turned to open her leg up for a good strike. She shifted a little to her left and then sprung up towards the upper ninety. Ali had changed her shot, but she had been able to guess correctly again. The ball was punched out of harms’ way. 

Ali growled at her, literally. Ashlyn shrugged. “What can I say? Hotshot keeper 1, big-talker right back 0.” 

As another week closed out, the main focus of all the girls was the Christmas party that was soon approaching. They had all picked names from a hat for Secret Santa (“No peeking and absolutely no trading. And if you get yourself, put it right back!”) and Ashlyn had gotten Kelley O’Hara. It was a relatively easy buy for her. Kelley loved to surf just as much as she did, so she picked up Kelley’s favorite board wax and a funny tropical hat she’d found.

Ashlyn sat on her bed with wrapping paper and other Christmas paraphernalia spread about her as she and Whitney conducted their present-wrapping extravaganza. Whitney wouldn’t tell her who she had pulled or what she had gotten, which Ashlyn rolled her eyes at (“What? I’m following the rules!”), so they did everything with their backs facing one another, constantly calling out for the other to blindly toss the tape. 

After getting hit in the head twice with the tape and eventually just deciding to wrap everything in tissue paper and stick it in a gift bag, Ashlyn and Whitney were done and placed their finished gifts on the table by the television, ready and waiting for the party. 

“You look…interesting,” Ali commented as Ashlyn and Whitney walked into the conference room together. Ashlyn grinned widely. The whole party had been presented as an ‘ugly sweater’ type of party, but only a few of them had actually chosen to show up in their ugly Christmas sweaters, Ashlyn and Whitney being a couple of the brave few. 

“Grandma chic,” Ashlyn explained. “I’m not joking — my grandma actually bought this back in the day and it wasn’t as a joke.” Ali laughed. Her nose crinkled and Ashlyn realized how much she’d missed that look. 

“Aw, I love your grandma, though,” she said. “She’s such a sweetheart; you can’t knock her style.” 

It was the first time either of them had casually made reference to their history with one another. Ali had met Ashlyn’s grandmother before the World Cup, when she came down to visit for a short time. That trip, they had laid out on the beach together, explored the town, explored each other. Ashlyn blushed. 

“I’ll, uh, tell her you appreciate her sweater vests,” she said.

That last day before the end of camp, the girls put together a bonfire on a section of the beach near the hotel where that was actually allowed (Cap insisted that they check first before any fires were put together). Amy, Mittsy, Kelley, and Tobin were sent out to buy supplies — from firewood to graham crackers and everything in between — and, when they came back with the goods, Abby and Ashlyn helped put together the bonfire. 

Once they eased the wood into a nice, roaring fire in the little pit in the sand they made, everyone relaxed and spread out on the various towels and chairs they’d brought over. Cheney and Tobin threw a frisbee around nearby while Sydney, Alex, and Kelley started opening the goodies, passing around marshmallows and sticks to the girls sitting around the fire. 

Ashlyn thought it looked so beautiful and peaceful like that, the sun growing heavy over the dark blue water, turning the sky bright orange and pink. A light breeze teased her hair. The best things and the worst things had all happened at the beach for Ashlyn. She’d seen the rise and fall of relationships there, rode the toughest waves, had the biggest wipeouts. She’d gone there as a child with her family. She’d gone there by herself to get away from them. She’d gone there to think and to cry and to scream and to celebrate. And she’d gone there to reflect. 

It was like her life revolved around the ocean. No matter where she was and no matter what was going on in her life, something would always draw her back there, like she was pulled as surely as the moon pulled the tides. She’d once learned that, though they were all called something different, the oceans were all one, all connected bodies of water spanning across the globe. The water she was looking at right then was the same water that lapped up on the shores in Satellite Beach. In a way, the ocean tied her to home. 

“You look almost meditative.” Ashlyn turned and smiled lightly as she saw Ali approach her, taking up a stance right next to her. Her dark eyes watched the tide wash in. A couple birds strutted along the beach, taking wing once the water nipped at their little feet. 

“I feel very at peace,” Ashlyn replied. “I was just thinking about how connected I am to the ocean. Sometimes I feel like my whole life is wrapped up in the water somehow.” 

“Everything about it is connected.” 

“Hmm?” 

“The water,” Ali clarified. “It’s all connected. It’s interesting to think about, how it all goes around and comes back in a cycle. The water here may have once been across the world. Who knows.” Ashlyn laughed a little. 

“We sound like wanna-be philosophers,” she chuckled. 

Ali’s face was cast half in shadow by the setting of the sun. She hardly looked real like that, dark hair blowing around her face, dark eyes set straight ahead of her. Ashlyn held in a gasp. Ali had said that everything was connected, going around in a circle. One thing became another, like water creating clouds and rain filling rivers. And then that water, that had been on that long journey, could end up right back where it started — a new beginning. 

“Remember Cancun?” Ashlyn murmured to Ali. 

“Of course I remember Cancun,” Ali replied, confused. Ashlyn wiggled her eyebrows at her and, before Ali could figure out what she was trying to do, Ashlyn had bent over to grab her around the waist and hoisted her onto her shoulder, taking off towards the water. 

Behind them, Ashlyn could hear teammates hooting with laughter at the sight, yelling and cat-calling. Ashlyn splashed through the shallow water, not much caring that the bottoms of her shorts were getting a little wet. Ali held on tightly to her shoulders, laughing and screeching and not at all asking to be put down. Then came the herd. As though Ashlyn was leading her people, Pinoe and Lori, Kelley and Tobin, Mittsy and HAO, and even Barnie and Buehler headed down after them, splashing away in the water. 

Ashlyn set Ali down, more gently than she had that time over a year ago. It was a different beach, but the same water. They’d both been through so much, but there they were, back where it had all begun in a way. Ashlyn held out a hand to Ali, who took it eagerly. That was her peace offering and her promise. 

Maybe one day, things can come full circle, Ashlyn was saying with her outstretched hand. This is me forgiving you, she said with her eyes. And Ali’s wide smile told her that she understood completely. 

They all splashed around in the water until it started to get a little chilly with the encroaching night. Faces flushed from the exertion and clothes wet and growing stiff with the salt, they high-kneed it back up the beach to where the bonfire was a grand beacon in the night. There, towels were passed out and hair was squeezed of water. Damp top layers were stripped and sand was sprayed everywhere. 

Finally, everyone settled in. Ashlyn was glad she’d left her sweatshirt beside her towel before she’d gone in the water. She pulled it on over her damp t-shirt and moved her towel closer to the fire to stay warm, patting the spot next to her for Ali. She was curled up in her own towel, snuggly warm. 

“Who’s got the chocolate?” Lori called. 

“A-Rod,” Cheney snitched. “Better hurry and grab some, cuz she’s been eating it all by herself.” Everyone laughed as Lori snatched the packet from an affronted-looking A-Rod, who was desperately trying to defend her chocolate-hogging ways. 

Underneath Ali’s blanket, which had somehow shifted to enclose the both of them, Ashlyn felt Ali’s hand grab for hers tentatively. She looked over with a question in her eyes, but laced her fingers with Ali’s anyway. Maybe this wasn’t something that friends would do, but it was Ali. 

Full circle. And maybe this time, they would get it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read and all the support. What'd you think of this one? 
> 
> Next time: Olympic Qualifying


	13. Breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2012 brings a lot of pain, but maybe there is a bright spot in it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter! (Can we get this story to 400 kudos?!?) 
> 
> It now storms every time I'm supposed to have a soccer game and the game then gets cancelled. But part of me is grateful because playing co-ed scares the shit out of me.

Ashlyn never liked being on this side of the screen, watching the game from the couch instead of being there in person, but she had grown quite used to it. Despite her stellar season with the WNY Flash, she still managed to get cut from the qualifying roster. She cracked open a bottle of water and settled in to watch the game, though. She’d promised Ali she would. It was just the Dominican Republic — a certain blowout — and Ali was itching to get her first international goal. Of course, Ashlyn was going to watch that. 

“Alright, Ashlyn, you need to tell me who’s who,” her grandmother said as she sat herself on the adjacent armchair. Ashlyn was so thankful for her grandmother and the way she didn’t say a word at the news that Ashlyn had been cut yet again. 

“Stay for dinner,” she had simply said. “I’m making your favorite.” And Ashlyn had stayed and, as they all ate together, she felt so loved. 

The stream they were watching had no commentary so the only noise they could hear was the cheering of the crowd and the mostly unintelligible yelling from the players on the field. Ashlyn provided occasional commentary for her grandma that mostly consisted of things like, “Good pass from Lep, there” and “Ooh, Carli’s shot was just a bit off” and especially “Ali’s been doing well”. Her eyes found the right back on the screen every time the camera panned over to the back line. 

It was a complete blowout from the moment it started with a classic Abby Wambach goal. Ashlyn and her grandmother only laughed, jokingly pumping their fists in the air as Heather O’Reilly’s shot found the back of the net for number 7 already. 

The ball bounced around a little bit in front of the goal like it was in a pin-ball machine. Shots went wide, Dominican Republic tried to clear a couple times unsuccessfully, and then finally it fell in front of Ali, who was just outside the box. Ashlyn sucked in a breath, hoping this would be the shot she would take. 

The camera followed the ball as it went just over the crossbar, but Ashlyn only furrowed her eyebrows at the scream she could hear in the background. 

“What was that?” she murmured. And then the camera panned back and she was assaulted with the imaged of Ali curled up on the field, eyes squeezed tightly shut, fist pounding on the turf as she held onto her knee. She stood, jaw slack. A shock of fear went through her.

“Is that Ali?” her grandmother asked. Ashlyn nodded and stepped closer, like she might be able to reach out and check on her through the screen. Her stomach churned with worry. She could hear Ali crying out more. Her hand flew to her mouth and she bit on her finger. 

“Come on, Al,” she whispered, watching as players went over to check on her. Boxxy knelt beside her as the trainers came out and helped her turn to her back. He tried to stretch out her right leg to the tune of fans cheering for Ali. Her leg wouldn’t straighten. Ashlyn ran a hand over her face. She didn’t want to think that that was what had happened, but she knew that was the most likely case. 

“Do you think she’s okay?” 

Ashlyn shook her head. “She’s really hurt,” she said. “I think Ali might’ve torn her ACL.” She reached for the remote and turned the TV off, unable to stand watching it any further — not while she couldn’t be there to help Ali. Not while she couldn’t be there to beat the face in of the girl who had literally kicked Ali’s knee out. She was overcome with the urge to kick both of her knees out. 

It was killing her to wait, but she knew that she wouldn’t hear much of anything until the end of the game at least. Ali would need to get her leg checked out, the players and staff would be busy until everything was over and done with, and she knew that Ali’s family would have to be contacted. She eventually gave in and texted Kyle. 

Ashlyn: Hey, did you see the DR game? Have you heard anything about Ali?

Kyle: Nothing yet. 

Ashlyn: Let me know?

Kyle: Yeah, I’ll pass on any info. Don’t worry. 

Ashlyn: If you talk to her, let her know I’m thinking about her. 

No one heard much of anything until the full results of Ali’s scans came back the next day. True to his word, Kyle texted her with updates as he got them. The Krieger family was spread across the country while Ali was still in Canada with the National Team, so she was entered into a massive web of information flowing from one phone to another, email chains concerning Ali. Kyle confirmed that Ali had torn her ACL and sprained her MCL and only an hour later, Ashlyn’s phone was ringing. 

“Alex?” she said as she answered it. Her heart thumped heavy in her chest. There was silence on the other end until she heard a broken sob and her heart broke along with it. She waited, just listening as, on the other end of the line, Ali was trying to pull herself together, taking deep heaving breaths, her voice cracking and wavering as she tried to speak through her tears. 

“Alex,” Ashlyn said again. “Hey, girlie, you’re okay.” Ashlyn knew she wasn’t. “Shh, babe, you’re okay,” she hushed her, voice soft. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the wall of the hallway. All she knew were the sounds of Ali on the other side. She wished she could transport herself to Vancouver and wrap her up in a tight hug. 

“I don’t think I can go to the Olympics,” Ali finally choked out. She let out another sob. 

Ashlyn knew she couldn’t say anything encouraging about that. She’d already heard the diagnosis. There was no getting around the months and months of recovery Ali would have to endure. Not even the amazing Ali Krieger could speed up the time it would take to get back to her top condition. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked instead. 

“It hurts,” Ali replied, her voice small.

“I know, baby,” Ashlyn breathed. She did know. She knew all too well the pain of an ACL tear, having been there twice in the span of two years. It was the sort of pain that haunted you even after the injury was healed.

“It really, really hurts.” 

Ashlyn knew that pain, too. She knew that Ali wasn’t merely talking about the pain in her knee, but the pain of her injury taking away the game she loves, the dream she was holding onto so tightly. Ali had never been subtle about how hungry she was for the gold medal, how excited she was to represent the US in the Olympics. She was a shoe-in for the Olympic roster after her performance in the World Cup. All that was taken from her by number 13 from the Dominican Republic and the worst tackle Ashlyn had ever seen. 

“Are you going to stay with the team or go back home?” Ashlyn asked. 

“I’m flying home to be with my dad on the 24th,” Ali said. Ashlyn could hear that she was drying her tears. She sniffled a little. Her voice cleared just barely. “That was the first flight I could get on.” 

“Do you want me to be there?” 

“What?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but it’s killing me to not be with you right now. I know what you’re going through and I want to be there to help.” 

“You would do that for me?” Ashlyn could hear her start to cry again and she cursed at herself internally. 

“Yeah, of course,” Ashlyn replied softly. “Of course.” 

Ashlyn booked her ticket after she got off the phone with Ali. She had to wipe away her own tears as she tucked her phone back in her pocket. She couldn’t get the sound of Ali crying out of her head — both on the field and on the phone. All she wanted was to tuck Ali into her side, wrap her arms around her, and tell her that everything was going to be okay. 

 

“Ashlyn,” Ken Krieger greeted her as he opened the door. He welcomed her inside quickly, which Ashlyn was grateful for because of the cold wind whipping outside. She let out a breath she had been holding as she was surrounded by the warmth of the house and her body could finally relax its shivering. Ali’s mom was there, too, and as soon as Ashlyn shucked off her coat, she was enveloped in a tight hug. 

“Oh, it’s good to see you,” Debbie said. 

“I’m so glad you could come.” Ken’s voice dropped a little as he eyed the stairway behind them. “Alex has been really upset,” he told her conspiratorially. “She’s been asking about when you were coming.” Ashlyn blushed. It had been a long time since she’d seen Ali’s mom and dad and, the last time they had seen each other, they hadn’t officially known that she was with their daughter. They did now, but she and Ali still weren’t back together. 

“Hopefully I can cheer her up a little,” Ashlyn said. Debbie gave her a knowing sort of smile and Ken clapped a hand on her shoulder. 

“I know you can,” he said. “Thank you again for coming to help out.” 

“Ken, Debbie,” Ashlyn started, “Ali and I aren’t…together…anymore, but I care about her a great deal. I just want you to know that.” 

“I know,” Debbie replied, sending Ashlyn upstairs to go see Ali. 

She was laying in bed, watching TV when she came upstairs. Her right leg was wrapped up and elevated on a stack of pillows. A bag of ice wrapped in a towel balanced over top of her knee. She looked absolutely miserable. Ashlyn took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the side of her door. 

As Ali looked up, her eyes brightened. She reached out a hand, and that was all Ashlyn needed to see for her to rush forward. Ali didn’t start crying until Ashlyn wrapped her in a tight hug. Her tears wet Ashlyn’s shoulder and neck, but she didn’t care. She simply held on to the defender, rocking her gently and rubbing her back as she let out everything. 

When Ali had calmed, exhausting herself from crying so hard, Ashlyn found herself curled up with her on her bed. Her shoes had been kicked off on the floor. Ali’s head was resting on her chest as she sniffled slightly. Ashlyn’s arm lay around her shoulders. Ali’s hand rested on her stomach, stroking her absentmindedly. 

“I’m so sorry this happened,” Ashlyn murmured into Ali’s hair. Her lips brushed across her head. “You don’t deserve this, Al, but you’re so, so strong. You’re going to come back and you’re gonna kick everyone’s asses.” Ali let out a little laugh, nestling herself further into Ashlyn’s side as best as she could without moving her knee. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Ali breathed. “You’re like my guardian angel.” Ashlyn rested her head atop of Ali’s. 

“I’ll always be here for you, Al,” she replied. “I don’t think I could stop myself if I tried.” 

And that was the truth. Ashlyn had realized it from the moment she heard Ali’s scream and the most visceral sense of fear entered her heart. She would always care for Ali; that would never change, no matter what existed between them. She would always want to be there to protect and support her and comfort her when she was in pain. Warmth filled her that had nothing to do with the heater or the body heat of the woman who was wrapped up in her arms. She pressed a kiss to the top of Ali’s head, certain that she still loved her and certain that she had never stopped. 

 

Ashlyn knew that Ali was nervous as they drove to her first PT session. She bit her lip as she looked out the window. Ashlyn, who was driving, felt her gaze drift over to her constantly. She reached out to rest a hand on Ali’s thigh, squeezing it gently. Ali placed her hand on top of Ashlyn’s, squeezing in return, and they stayed like that for the rest of the drive. 

Ashlyn turned towards Ali after they’d parked at the center and made her look at her seriously, stilling hands that were adjusting her knee brace and reaching for her crutches. 

“This is going to hurt more than you can imagine,” Ashlyn told her frankly, “but you can get through it. You have to get through it.” She pressed a kiss to Ali’s forehead. “You’ve got this, Kriegs,” she said. “I believe in you.” 

As she helped Ali out of the car, keeping an arm on the small of her back to steady her as she crutched over to the front door of the center, Ashlyn was transported back to days of stiff braces and surgery — days when the simple task of bending her knee was enough to bring her to tears. Whitney had stuck by her side then and made sure that she powered through the darkest of those days, when the pain grew so much that she was ready and willing to throw everything away. Now, she was there to do the same thing for Ali. 

 

She could only stay with the Kriegers for a few days, but it seemed like her presence was doing some good for Ali. Debbie pulled her aside at least once a day and told her as much, at least. 

“Alex is eating better now,” she’d tell her. “I’m so happy to see Alex smiling through this.” Ashlyn almost thought, with all the looks and hints Ali’s mom was giving her, that she was encouraging her to get back with Ali. To be honest, she wasn’t sure that they weren’t together again. And, to her surprise, the thought didn’t scare her, even with the news that Ali would be going back to Germany after her surgery and initial rounds of PT in order to rehab and train with her team. 

They hadn’t kissed or done anything more than cuddle, but Ashlyn felt so close to her that it was almost painful to say that they were just friends. They’d surpassed that long ago when Ashlyn had promised that she would always be there for Ali. She didn’t see Ali complaining either. The brunette was constantly reaching out to take her hand, wanting to cuddle upstairs and watch movies. Ashlyn knew they’d have to talk before she left for Florida again. She patted the box in her pocket as she got back to the Kriegers’ house, shivering again from the frigid Virginia weather. 

“Ali?” she said as she entered her room. Ali was watching something like Say Yes to the Dress, which Ashlyn rolled her eyes at, but looked up immediately with a wide smile as she saw Ashlyn walk in. 

“You’re back,” she said excitedly. She shifted to make room for Ashlyn, moving her right leg gingerly. She could bend it a bit better after a few days of PT. Most of the swelling had gone down and, last appointment, her doctor had even arranged a date for her surgery for the next week. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something, Ali,” Ashlyn said as she sat beside her. Her hands fingered the box in the pocket of her sweatshirt. She took a deep breath. “I honestly didn’t think that we would ever be the same after you left me,” she said. “I was so hurt, I didn’t think I could trust anyone with my heart again. I didn’t want to.” Ashlyn saw Ali’s eyes grow a bit misty; her lip quivered. 

“No, no — I’m not saying this to make you upset, Ali,” Ashlyn said hurriedly. She reached out to take both of Ali’s hands in hers. 

“I can’t help it,” Ali replied, trying to smile. “I can’t ever apologize enough for what I did to you.” She shook her head. “After everything, I don’t know how you can be so good to me.” 

“Because I care about you, Al,” Ashlyn said. “So much. I don’t think I will ever stop. That’s why, well, I was wondering if we might officially try things again?” Ali’s eyes brightened and Ashlyn felt a grin spread across her face. 

“Really?” Ali asked. 

“Well, your mom’s been pushing me to take you back,” Ashlyn laughed. She laughed even harder at the way Ali’s face turned bright red. She scowled and muttered something mean about her mom. “No, I’m joking,” Ashlyn said. “I really want to try again. I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

“Are you sure? I can get better with telling people. If we do this, I’ll tell the team and my friends and I’d want to meet your family as your girlfriend.” Ashlyn’s smile grew even wider. “But I haven’t really changed my mind about not being out to the public.” 

“I think we can work with that,” Ashlyn said. 

“And you already know I’m going to be back in Germany in a couple weeks.” 

“I know,” Ashlyn replied, “and I understand that that’s something you have to do to get better.” She pulled her hands from Ali’s to reach into her pocket for the box that had been plaguing her all day. She finally pulled it out, flipping it over and over between her hands. “That’s why I got you this,” she said, and opened it for Ali to see. 

Inside, there were two necklaces, both made of a simple silver chain with a silver angel’s wing pendant hanging from them. Ali’s hand flew to her mouth as she examined them, running the fingers of her other hand down the chains and over the detailed carving on the wings. 

“See, there’s one for each of us,” Ashlyn explained. “When we’re apart, you’ll have a piece of me with you and I’ll have a piece of you with me.” Ali didn’t say anything. Ashlyn hesitated. “Sorry, I know it’s probably cheesy,” she said, ducking her head. 

“No,” Ali said. “I love it.” She pulled one of the necklaces out of the box. “Angel wings,” she said with a watery laugh. “It’s perfect. It’s like you’re watching over me.” 

“And you’ll be watching over me,” Ashlyn replied. “You’ve helped me with a lot, too, Al. You helped me get my family back.” 

“Can you help me put this on?” Ali asked excitedly. Ashlyn held out her hand for the necklace. Ali pulled her hair together and lifted it out of the way as Ashlyn leaned over and secured the chain around her neck. The necklace hung down between her breasts. 

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Ali whispered as she looked up to meet Ashlyn’s gaze again. Ashlyn felt her mouth grow dry. Ali’s eyes were dark and bright with a hint of tears. 

“I can do that,” Ashlyn replied, equally as quietly. The time it took for her to lean in closer to Ali seemed like a lifetime. It was like Ashlyn was stuck under the water, holding her breath. She thought her lungs might burst, and then her lips touched Ali’s and it was like she was breaking through the surface for air. 

That night they’d curled up together with Ashlyn pillowing her head on Ali’s chest and Ali’s arms wrapped tightly around her. Ashlyn’s breathing was slow as she took in the smell and feel of Ali, completely content and just starting to drift off into what she knew would be a pretty damn blissful sleep but Ali’s head shifted slightly on the pillow and she stilled her breathing even more to listen, wondering if Ali was doing alright. 

Ali shifted again, and before Ashlyn could move to ask if she was in pain, she felt the soft press of lips to the top of her head and the even softer whisper of Ali’s breath as she whispered to her, “I’m going to fight for you and for us, Ashlyn Harris.” 

Keeping her eyes shut, Ashlyn tried to remain still, struggling against the smile that threatened to give away her conscious state, but she vowed to remember to return the sentiments to Ali in the morning. She would fight for her, too, and them. She would always fight for them. 

 

Ashlyn had been hesitant about letting Ali fully back into her heart. She had spent nights up wondering whether they would simply fall apart again, like the first time. But this time felt different. Ashlyn could tell that Ali was really making an effort to change things between them for the better. She was making an effort to accept herself. 

For one thing, Ashlyn got a chance to meet Ali’s teammates at FFC Frankfurt. She flew into Germany to visit Ali (they had agreed to trade off on meeting up in Germany and the US) and Ali very excitedly invited her to the FFC Frankfurt training complex to watch her PT session and see where Ali used to play. 

“Hallo, Ali,” Dzsenifer Marozsan greeted as they walked past each other down the hallway, Ali and Ashlyn heading toward the trainer’s, Marozsan towards the training pitch. “Wer ist das?” she asked teasingly, her eyebrows raising in Ashlyn’s direction. 

“My girlfriend,” Ali replied, smiling at Ashlyn. “She’s visiting.” Marozsan gave her an impressed look and replied in rapid German. Ali laughed and said something else in return, squeezing Ashlyn’s arm affectionately. Ashlyn grinned a little and said hello to Ali’s teammate. She had no idea what that exchange was, but it sounded good. 

“I’m really proud of you, Alex,” Ashlyn murmured in her ear as they walked away. She could see Ali’s smile out of the corner of her eye. 

“I promised I would try to be more comfortable with people knowing,” she replied. “And I am. After everything that my teammates have done for me, I know that they only care about me.” Ashlyn pressed a quick kiss to the side of Ali’s head before pulling away to a somewhat respectable distance. Ali stopped them outside of the trainer’s door. 

“And I have something else you’ll be proud of me for,” she said. 

She pushed open the door and they were greeted by the trainer who had been working with Ali closely since she’d gotten back to Germany. She was instructed to sit on the table and she took off her brace so that he could take a look at her knee. Ashlyn sat back on a chair, leaving them enough room to work. They conducted the visit entirely in German, so she didn’t know what they were saying, but Ali’s smile was steadfast, she seemed to be moving her knee without pain, and the only thing that outwardly belied her condition was the straight white scar that ran down the middle of her knee. 

At the end of it all, the trainer turned to Ashlyn and said in heavily accented English, “She looks good, ja?” 

“Yeah, she looks good,” Ashlyn replied with a smirk. Ali raised her hand to hit her, but Ashlyn could tell she was trying not to laugh. 

“She is very…” He trailed off and spoke quickly with Ali as they tried to figure out the word he was looking for. “Strong,” he finally said. Ashlyn nodded in agreement, watching as Ali secured her knee brace back on again. She was so strong. 

On the way to their lunch date afterwards, Ali outlined her plan for returning to the National Team in time for the Olympics. She was working basically all day every day to return to her fully healthy self. Determination, she said, was the word of the year for a reason. Ashlyn listened with awe and pride at how driven and confident Ali sounded. She had not just torn her ACL, but her MCL and meniscus as well but she was not taking no for an answer. 

“By the time July comes, we’ll both be on that roster,” Ali asserted with such confidence that she left little room for doubt at all. Her lips upturned, Ali said, “Tell me about National Team camp. How were the girls?” 

 

Ashlyn kept herself busy with training, camps, and organizing time in-between in which she and Ali could see each other. Even though she hadn’t gone to Olympic qualifiers, she was still in the hunt for a spot on the roster, even as an alternate and, as camp after camp passed, her dream looked more and more like it could be a reality. 

She could see it in herself during training. She felt great — strong, fast, level-headed. She felt, then more than ever, that she really was ready to make another step up and maybe take the third keeper spot. She saw it in the way Paul commended her on a good training session; the way he clapped her shoulder and told her that she was improving greatly. She was riding a wave higher than before, with new, unfettered confidence. So of course, she had to fall. 

It was during the second to last day of training in Japan when it happened. They were playing a scrimmage — nothing too rough, but with the girls, they always got a bit more competitive than necessary. Cheney was charging at her with the ball at her feet. She made it past one defender, then another, and Ashlyn knew that it was then or never. She would have to be bold and make a play on the ball. 

She hardly realized that the cry had left her throat, she was so focused on the throbbing pain. Laying on the grass with her weight pressed upon her left arm, she gritted her teeth and tried to stop the tears from leaking down her cheeks. She wanted to move, but her arm felt weird — out of place — and she couldn’t push herself up without another wave of pain. 

“It’s dislocated,” the doctor said as she sat in the room — just her and the trainers.

“So you can just pop it back in and everything will be fine, right?” Ashlyn said hopefully. The doctor shook his head with a grimace. 

“Not so simple,” he said. “The dislocation of the joint tore up the muscle pretty badly. You’re going to need to stay away from physical activity that will aggravate the injury even more. And yes, that means no soccer.” 

Ashlyn’s jaw went slack. She looked between the doctor and the trainers and back again, waiting for someone to give her a way out. Surely a dislocated shoulder was just that — a dislocated shoulder. In the movies, they always just popped it back in. 

“You might be able to get away with rest and physical therapy, but looking at your scans here, I’d say that surgery will become a necessity sooner or later. It’s your decision, but I’d recommend going for the surgery.” 

Paul wouldn’t let her play with her shoulder like it was. Ashlyn had returned to camp with the trainers after she’d gotten her shoulder put back in place and everything wrapped up nicely so that it didn’t move too much. She was given a strict icing regimen. Pia wouldn’t let her play like that either. The two looked at each other and Ashlyn saw it happen before her eyes. She moved down on the depth chart again. 

The empty feeling followed her back to the states. She felt as though she was just going through the motions as she called her doctor and trainer down in Satellite Beach, called her coach up in Buffalo, she contacted Pia and Paul to let them know what her plan was. She wasn’t going to get surgery. With therapy and icing, her doctor said, she could get by for a while. She let them know how ready she was to work and make it back to her peak form before the Olympics. 

The worst was when Ali called and she had to make a choice: tell her the truth, or hide her injury so that Ali could focus on claiming her spot on the roster. With a smile she hoped looked sincere enough, she told Ali about Japan, their games, training, how she was looking forward to the next camp, even though she knew inside that she would not be on the list. 

 

As it turned out, she couldn't hide it for very long because Ali took some time off at the end of May to visit her family in Northern Virginia. Ashlyn flew up from Florida to meet her despite the pain that travel put her in. She'd been going to PT and taking care of her shoulder, but it wasn't seeming to make any progress, something she began to measure in the amount of Ibuprofen she was popping daily. 

“Hey, baby!” Ali said, hugging her tightly as she opened the door to let her into her father’s house. Ashlyn grunted in response, fiery pain ripping through her shoulder. Ali jumped away and stared at her as Ashlyn rubbed her shoulder and grimaced. 

“What happened?” Ali asked quietly. Ashlyn smiled at her reassuringly. 

“Let’s talk inside, okay, babe?” 

She never imagined that Ali would be that angry with her. In fact, sitting there in the Kriegers’ den, Ashlyn wondered vaguely whether Ken would provide some protection from his daughter, who had been on a tirade for what seemed like an hour. 

“I didn’t want to worry or distract you,” Ashlyn said. “You’ve been working so hard towards this. I didn’t want to bring your dream down.” 

“Babe,” Ali said sadly. She reached out to touch Ashlyn’s shoulder but, even then, Ashlyn flinched. Ali frowned. “You need to have that surgery,” she assessed. 

“I know,” Ashlyn sighed, though it was difficult facing that injury had once again taken her away from the game, from accomplishing anything she’d wanted to. 

They were together in Northern Virginia when the Olympic roster came out, catching them by surprise entirely. It was six weeks until the Olympics were starting, Pia had jumped the gun a little, and Ali wasn’t happy. Ashlyn watched as Ali went from denial (“They can’t have released the roster yet. There’s so much time left.”) to anger (“I deserved another shot!”) to, finally, letting herself be upset. She sat with Ashlyn in the den of her father’s house and cried on Ashlyn’s good shoulder. And Ashlyn comforted her, feeling even more empty inside, because while this was something routine for her (though still quite the disappointment), Ali had little experience with having her dreams ripped apart due to something that was entirely out of her hands. 

As the year had gone on, things had grown choppier in the WPS. May also brought Ashlyn a day in which she really was left out of a job. The league folded, she wasn’t going to the Olympics, and she felt pretty shit out of luck. 

“Hey, Ashlyn,” Ali said hesitantly one night. They were laying in bed together, Ashlyn cradled in Ali’s arms because she couldn’t get the pain in her shoulder to go down no matter how much ice or cream she used, how many pills she took, or how many kisses Ali pressed to her hot skin. 

“Hmm?” Ashlyn replied. She let her head rest back on Ali’s chest, listening to the way her heartbeat jumped a little. 

“What are you going to do now that the WPS has folded?” Ashlyn let out a sigh and immediately felt Ali’s hands on her, brushing her hair out of her face and running down her arm, a sort of apology for bringing up such a sore subject. 

“Well I’ve gotta go down and get my surgery done,” Ashlyn said. 

“But I mean, playing-wise,” Ali said. “Have you given that any thought?” 

Ashlyn had given it more thought than she wanted to say. Everyone knew about the whisperings — whether they played soccer in the US or not. They’d been hovering in the air ever since the end of the 2011 season. Would the WPS last — especially with everything surfacing about magicJack? The answer was a resounding no. Yet again, a US women’s soccer league had folded and put countless athletes out of work. Ashlyn had been contemplating what she would do since the beginning of the year. 

“Yeah, I suppose,” she said. She caught Ali’s hand with hers and laced their fingers together. With her thumb, she stroked a pattern along the soft skin of Ali’s hand. 

“Would you ever consider playing abroad?” Her hand stilled. She thought. Of course it was something she had considered. Was there any other option? There was only the issue of making it over there, and goalkeepers were always less in-demand than field players if there wasn’t a real spot open already. 

“Yeah…” Ashlyn drew out. She titled her head back to look at Ali’s face. “Why?” she teased. “If I’m thinking what you’re thinking, I know it’s not gonna work. Nadine would never let me steal her job.” 

“No,” Ali agreed with a giggle, “but there are other teams in the Bundesliga and Nadine was telling me that a couple are looking for another keeper.” Ashlyn raised an eyebrow at her and Ali blushed. “She wasn’t very subtle about it either. She was like, ‘oh, Ali, guess what I heard. Maybe a certain someone would like to know’ and everything.” Ashlyn laughed. 

“So I guess she likes me?” 

“From the way she was teasing me at training when you stopped by? ‘Mumbles looks so happy today — must be because her girlfriend is here’. Yeah, she likes you.” 

Ashlyn smiled softly as she remembered. Every time she visited Ali, they always stopped by the complex together to chat with the rest of the team. Ali would do her PT session and get her knee looked at. Ashlyn would encourage her and beam with pride at her progress, which she had made in leaps and bounds. Occasionally, they would go out to the practice pitch and, though Ali wasn’t allowed to even touch a soccer ball, Ashlyn would have a nice chat with Nadine Angerer and the goalkeeper even invited her to train with them one day. 

Ashlyn rolled onto her right side so that she could look at Ali properly. They laughed quietly as they shifted arms and legs to regain a comfortable position. Ashlyn’s left arm was draped over her waist. Her head rested near Ali’s, so close that, even in the dark, she could see the bright flash of her eyes. 

“So, how do you say ‘girlfriend’ in German?” Ashlyn murmured into Ali’s shoulder. She pressed feather-light kisses to Ali’s collarbone, making her sigh softly. 

“Freundin,” Ali replied. “Sorry it’s not something romantic-sounding. German isn’t really that kind of language.” 

“It’s pretty damn romantic when you say anything in it,” Ashlyn said. She pressed a kiss to Ali’s lips. “Have I ever told you how sexy you sound speaking German?” Ali giggled as Ashlyn pressed more kisses to her face and neck. 

“I’m guessing it turns you on?” she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently. Ashlyn grinned up at her lasciviously. 

“Talk German to me, babe.” Ali rolled her eyes. 

“You’re an absolute dork,” she said. 

Ashlyn looked at her, the way she laughed and rolled her eyes, and was filled with warmth in her chest. “I love you, Alex,” she whispered out. Ali paused. A smile crept across her face as she pulled Ashlyn closer to her. 

“I love you so much,” she replied against Ashlyn’s lips. 

Ashlyn didn’t tell Ali that she contacted her agent the next day, telling him to help her look into some teams in Germany. He thought it was a great idea and put her in contact with a couple different teams. Both were interested, despite the fact that Ashlyn’s fucked-up left shoulder was common knowledge. Eventually, she and her agent were engaged in negotiations with FCR 2001 Duisburg and, by the end of June, they were ready to announce that she had signed a 2-year contract with them. 

Ali screamed when she called to tell her the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what your favorite part of this chapter was. 
> 
> Next time: the Olympics and Ashlyn's fish-slap story


	14. Headlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 2012 Olympics, a talk about sexuality, dead fish, and Ashlyn's first cap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is late. Sorry, I was vacationing. This won't be abandoned, however! 
> 
> Also, I sometimes think of the roster still and get a bit sad.

Ali’s twenty-eighth birthday celebration was postponed somewhat because she really wanted to watch the gals take on Colombia in their second match of the Olympics. Ashlyn had asked her if she was sure enough that Ali had rolled her eyes and said, “I’m not so bitter about not going that I’m gonna not support everyone,” and so Ashlyn cooked the popcorn and they curled up on the couch together and waited for the game to come on excitedly. Luckily for Ashlyn, Ali found the British broadcast of the match. 

“I really should be making you watch the German commentary version,” Ali said as Ashlyn made herself comfortable, throwing an arm around Ali’s shoulders. “You need to really start learning the language if you plan on staying here.” 

“That what you’re for,” Ashlyn said with a shrug. “Why learn the language when I have my very own personal translator.” 

“And what happens when I’m here and you’re in Duisburg and you can’t figure your way around because you didn’t pay attention to my German lessons, hmm?”

She knew she really hadn’t been serious about learning German so far. Ali had bought her some books that had helped her when she’d first gotten to Germany, including a couple children’s books that were supposed to teach German kids to read and write. She’d even taken the time to teach Ashlyn some helpful words and phrases, but each session had turned into Ashlyn growing unfocused and, instead of trying to repeat the foreign sounds back, kissing Ali deeply and stripping off her shirt. 

“You didn’t seem to be complaining,” Ashlyn replied, wiggling her eyebrows. “Besides, I know all the key phrases.” 

“Yeah?” Ali challenged. “Say one thing in German.” She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at her. Ashlyn grinned widely. 

“Ich liebe Brüsten,” she stated proudly. Ali shook her head and whacked her in the stomach. 

The match against Colombia started out a bit choppy, but the US was getting some good chances and both Ashlyn and Ali knew that it was only a matter of time before they got a goal. They cheered and groaned as shots were taken that just went wide or were safely gathered by the Colombian keeper. Then, as the first half was starting to draw to a close, Alex Morgan set up a shot for Pinoe, and the ball hit the back of the net. 

“Yes, Pin!” Ashlyn cheered, standing. They watched as she ran back, pumping her fist, then pulled a piece of paper from her sock and held it up in front of the camera. 

“Shut up,” Ali said, stunned, as she read what it said. “Shut up. I cannot believe she did that.” Her hands were pressed against her mouth, open with surprise. As the tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, she started to fan her face to try and stem them before they started. Ashlyn watched her with a wide smile, filled with so much love for Ali as she saw the love all their teammates had for her too. 

“Yeah,” Ashlyn said as she sat next to Ali again, pulling her into her lap. “I can’t believe Pinoe spelled your name wrong, too.” 

As 2012 began to draw to a close, it looked like 2013 would mark a lot of changes for US Soccer as well as both Ashlyn and Ali’s lives. Firstly, Pia left the team and was replaced by Tom Sermanni. The US had won gold in London, but Pia was offered a job with her home country’s team and, though they were all upset to see her go, no one blamed her for wanting to coach Sweden. So Tom stepped up and, with him, came the call for an influx of new call-ups. He was obviously eager to test the young guns and new faces and some were happier about that than others. 

Then, there were the rumblings starting again of a new women’s league in the US — this one called the NWSL. As part of the National Team player pool, both Ashlyn and Ali had been contacted by the suits at US Soccer about joining the NWSL, which was feeling like more of an obligation than a choice, really. US Soccer was saying that their salary would be taken care of by them instead of the league; that they would be allocated to one of the eight teams. 

“Maybe something different would be good,” Ali said, biting her lip. “It might be beneficial to play in the US this year, anyway.” 

For Ali, the end of the year meant her return to the soccer pitch. She played a little bit here and there for FFC Frankfurt, testing the waters and just ‘gaining her legs’. And she was looking good. Ashlyn could see clearly from across the field, stuck between the posts of the team opposite her girlfriend’s, trying to deal with the flurry of shots that were ripped at her. 

For Ali, the start of 2013 would mean her victorious return to the National team. Fully healed, she was itching to get back to work at the highest level, hoping to reclaim her spot as a regular starter. Of course, playing in a league that was run by US Soccer would allow her to be more available for camps and avoid unnecessary international travel. 

“There’s a team in D.C. even,” Ashlyn pointed out. “The Washington Spirit.” 

“Are you thinking of making the move?” 

“If you are,” Ashlyn replied. She didn't like to think that she was traipsing across the world and back for Ali Krieger. Wasn’t that a bit much? She had moved to play in Germany, but only because she was out of a job and that country happened to be convenient. Now, Ali was thinking about leaving and, though the competition in Germany was good, she didn’t think they had anything else there for her. After all, she still didn’t know the language. So maybe she was following Ali Krieger across oceans, but she was also doing it for herself. 

“I will,” Ali said firmly after some thought. “I have to show Tom that I’m serious about making a comeback…And it’ll be nice to be able to see my dad whenever.” Looking at Ashlyn, she added, “What team would you want to play for? The Flash is making a comeback.” 

“I was thinking,” Ashlyn said, “that I might want to try and stay with you?” Ali’s jaw dropped. 

“Really?” she nearly squealed. “You’d go to D.C.?” 

“I’ve lived there before,” Ashlyn said. “It wasn’t so bad.” She looked at Ali. “I think it might get even better if I could have a specific player as my roommate.” Ali grinned widely. 

“That would be perfect,” she said. “I mean, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, though. I could just as easily play in New York and — ”

Ashlyn shut her up with a hard kiss. “You should have a chance to play at home, Ali,” she said. “Everyone would kill for that chance. And I want to be there with you.” In lieu of an answer to that, Ali pulled Ashlyn back towards her and kissed her soundly, gripping tight to the hair at the nape of her neck.

 

Throughout her life, Ashlyn had always searched for control, something that she never had much access to. As a kid, her life was at the whimsy of the money that came in. If her parents had their jobs, if they could get another shift in, if they could get some more assistance or save a little more. In her soccer career, Ashlyn had so little control it was maddening at times. No matter how hard she worked, everything was up to the coach on the National Team. The leagues rose and fell without her bidding. She was forced to find a new league; US Soccer forced her back to the states. 

So Ashlyn had searched for control in other areas of life. Her relationships. She cut out the ones she thought were unhealthy. She jumped around from girl to girl so that she could always end a relationship on her terms. She had always tried to control who could get close to her; who could hurt her. If she lost control of that, she had nothing. The pain would seep in, weighing her down. The dreams would start again and she would be back in the water, fighting to keep her head up, but ultimately drowning. 

And then, Ali happened. Ali came into her life with her nose-crinkle smile and sweet, mumbling words and told her that she was loved, and Ashlyn believed her. They had their problems, and they were no small problems either, but Ashlyn knew, despite everything, that she was better for knowing Ali and, she hoped, Ali was better for knowing her. Faced with the prospect of finally being able to play on the same team as Ali, therefore living in the same place, Ashlyn couldn’t think of anything she’d like better. 

“There’s a problem,” her agent said over the phone.

“What kind of problem?” Ashlyn replied with trepidation. As far as she knew, she had been doing well on and off the field. As it turned out, the problems (because there were more than one) really had nothing to do with what sort of performance she had been putting forth or what sort of person she was presenting to the public. It was just another set of issues that came up because nothing ever seemed to run smoothly around Ashlyn. It was another set of bad circumstances that were out of her control. 

“Those whisperings about Duisburg’s financial situation are true,” her agent clarified. “We’re trying to work things out, but as of now they can’t really pay you.” Ashlyn’s heart dropped into her stomach. She was by no means making any sizable amount playing soccer — she wasn’t Alex or Abby or Hope — and she wasn’t getting anything from sponsorships either. She needed that money. 

“I’ve been talking with them about your contract and they’re pretty pissed off about everything to do with you moving to the NWSL.” 

“You think they’re not going to pay me because I’m breaking the contract?” Her agent made a noncommittal noise of agreement. “I’m basically being forced back by US Soccer,” Ashlyn growled with exasperation. That wasn’t the only reason she wanted to go to D.C., but it was a valid point. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorting things out. You just might have to finish out the season with them before they let you come back here.” Ashlyn ran a hand over her face. She knew she would have to tell Ali after she hung up with her agent and she was not looking forward to that phone call. 

“Okay,” Ashlyn said. “Just…Just get me to D.C. The money — ”

“I’ll make sure you leave Germany with your paycheck safely in your luggage,” her agent assured her. That wasn’t what Ashlyn was about to say, but she was calmed somewhat by how adamant he seemed about getting her her proper compensation.

She was tired. After everything that had happened that year end, she was absolutely exhausted by the switchings of coaches and buildings of leagues and the beginnings of the allocation process. It had hardly begun and she was already tired. All she wanted to do was play soccer and be with Ali. She was finally offered that chance, and it seemed as though the universe (or FCR 2001 Duisburg at least) was trying to thwart her every which way. 

 

Ashlyn rolled into National Team camp that February with a clear chip on her shoulder, the product of confusing paperwork and contract negotiations. She was practically beating her head against the wall to try to get the suits behind Duisburg to cooperate with her and the rest of her teammates who were getting fucked over as well. She couldn’t keep her sour mood up for long, though, because a certain brunette whom she hadn’t seen for a couple weeks flew at her happily as they met in the hotel lobby. 

“Hey Princess,” Ashlyn murmured in her ear as she hugged her tightly. Ali returned the embrace with enough spirit to rival even the most enthusiastic hugger. The tables had turned for them a little. Ashlyn was the one playing abroad while Ali trained with a new personal trainer in D.C., waiting for the American season to begin again. 

“Hey, babe,” Ali murmured equally as quietly. She then pulled back to cup Ashlyn’s face between her hands and kissed her solidly. 

Maybe it was the pulsing fire Ali was harboring, secondhand anger over Ashlyn’s fights with Duisburg, or maybe it was the some sort of ‘war widow’ syndrome. Maybe Ali was simply following through with what she had promised Ashlyn a year ago. Whatever it was, Ali was no longer very shy with displaying affection for her in front of her teammates. 

Ashlyn raised an eyebrow at Ali as they pulled apart. She could just see the stares of their teammates and a couple trainers out of the corner of her eye. Someone wolf-whistled — maybe Kelley. 

“Ali,” she started, but Ali cut her off. 

“Fuck it,” she said, flicking a bit of hair over her shoulder with confidence. Ashlyn had never been so turned on. “It’s a new year and if I can’t happily be with you in front of our teammates — our family — then what’s the point?” Ashlyn grinned. 

The reaction to their news was extremely anticlimactic — a chorus of, “We knew already” and “Took you long enough to say it”. Ali had frowned a bit at that, wondering where they’d slipped up, which only made Ashlyn laugh hysterically. 

Syd asserted that she could sense the tension between them. Kelley, Buehler, A-Rod, and Alex said they could clearly tell what a lovers’ tiff looked like. Barnie assessed that it was quite clear to anyone who was paying attention. Stephanie pointed out that they flirted over social media all the time. Meanwhile, Tobin said that she’d had no idea.

All Carli had to say was, “Ali, you’re gay? I thought you had dated that one guy?” Ashlyn had taken over at that point, seeing how Ali was starting to throw her walls up again, growing obviously uncomfortable. 

“She doesn’t have to be, Carli. Sexuality is more complicated than that,” Ashlyn said calmly as she wrapped an arm around Ali’s waist, letting her bury her head in the crook of Ashlyn’s neck. Carli only shrugged, completely uninterested with the ins and outs of attraction. 

“Did you always know?” Ali asked that night as they sat together in the empty hallway. It was late at night — a bit past their curfew in camp — and neither of them wanted to kick out their roommates. 

“Hmm?” 

“That you liked girls — did you always know?” Ashlyn smiled a little, thinking back. 

She had always had a strong sense of self, who she was and what she wanted to do. She had grown up following her brother around in everything he did — including running around shirtless until she was finally persuaded by her mother and grandmother that girls just didn’t do that. Shirt on, she still maintained her rough and tumble personality, getting into absolutely anything dirty, running off on wild adventures, playing sport after sport and coming home exhausted and covered in sweat, sand, and dirt. 

She had always known what she liked to do, and she liked to think she always knew who she liked to do as well, even if she didn’t show it always. She’d been a staunch tomboy throughout her younger years and up till middle school she didn’t notice much of either gender. Then came locker rooms and the odd, thrilling feeling she started to get around some of her close friends. She remembered noticing their unpracticed mascara, freckles across cheeks, dainty smiles, the way their hair would fall down their backs. But also with locker rooms and the realization that she just really, really wanted to kiss girls, came the worry that she was looking too much, that someone could tell. 

High school meant trying a bit harder to “be a girl” and she could remember one particular jean skirt that she just hated. She’d slogged through years of sundresses and prom dresses because that’s what she was expected to wear. She was outgoing and funny and by far the most talented athlete in school — across both the boys and girls — and so she was popular. Therefore, she had to dress the part. It was about not sticking out. She knew what she wanted, but she didn’t think she could have it then. 

“Yes,” Ashlyn said with certainty. Ali frowned a little. “I mean, I always knew, I think. I couldn’t help it, and I don’t have any attraction for boys like you do. But just because I knew doesn’t mean everything was easy and nothing was confusing.” 

“Really?” Ali looked so little and lost like that. Ashlyn kissed her on the top of her head. 

“Believe it or not, Ali,” she started — she looked down both ends of the hall exaggeratedly before pulling Ali closer to her like she was some super spy imparting a national secret — “I dated a boy once.” Ali gasped, her surprise 100% genuine. 

“You’re kidding,” she said. Ashlyn shook her head. After she’d fully come out and had grown into herself some more, she never mentioned those days, but there were some girls on the team who she knew might still remember — HAO for one, Whitney, and maybe Tobin, if she had been paying attention at all. “But I thought you said you weren’t attracted to boys at all.” 

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t meant that I didn’t try,” Ashlyn said. “I thought it might be easier if I was. I was just out of high school, still not really comfortable with coming out. I was worried that other girls wouldn’t be comfortable in the locker room or being my roommate or something stupid like that. Anyway, he was nice and pretty cute, but he was a bro.” She thought. “And the sex was horrible,” she added quietly, making a face. Beside her, Ali looked absolutely scandalized. 

“I don’t want to know any more…but, also, I do,” she said. Ashlyn shrugged. 

“He had a dick, I didn’t like it. We only did it a couple times, and then I decided I’d had enough of pretending and I thought, well, I shouldn’t keep hiding who I was. I knew I would never be happy otherwise.” 

Really, besides that momentary lapse of judgement, that was the kind of person Ashlyn had always been — loudly and proudly and absolutely herself. That was how she lived and how she had always lived, from the time she was a child growing up on the poor part of the Space Coast. 

 

There was a stretch of beach near her childhood home where the beach was relatively more secluded. It was a thin sort of beach, the kind where only a few feet of sand separated water and itchy, wiry grass. Ashlyn never much paid attention to what her parents said about staying near the house, but the little beach was near enough and shallow enough that they didn’t have to worry. “Ashlyn was born swimming,” her grandmother would often joke. And so they let her go. 

Red tide had swept through the water that summer like a wildfire and killed all the fish that she and her brother would otherwise spend the mornings catching using their grandfather’s old poles and cold cut lunch meat for bait. Ashlyn stood bare foot with the silty sand squelching between her toes and the tall grass scratching at her calves and stared at the fish that were just laying there on the silty bank. Where water met land, another couple fish, eyes glassed over, bobbed sadly. 

Ashlyn made a face, but started to wade closer, jumping from empty spot to empty spot as she picked her way through the dead fish like land mines. The sound of other little feet thumping through the grass made her stop and turn. It was only a neighbor kid — one she sometimes played manhunt with or rode skateboards with. 

He squealed with surprise as he stepped on one of the dead fish and Ashlyn burst out laughing, watching as his face contorted. “Ugh,” he said with clear disgust as he jumped away from the squashed body. Picking up a stick, he poked at it and watched with fascination as it flopped over. “That’s gross!” he said. “They’re all dead!” 

“It’s just fish,” Ashlyn said with a laugh. She was busy doing her own exploration, squatting so that her butt rested on her heels, just far enough away from the sand that her backside stayed clean.

The neighbor boy watched her with a sneer, his hand gripping the stick tightly. He watched as Ashlyn reached out a hand to gingerly poke at a fish, running just the pads of her fingers against the slick scales. The neighbor boy smiled to himself and picked his way over to Ashlyn until he was standing right next to her. 

“Dare you to pick it up,” the boy said. Ashlyn looked up at him, unimpressed and reached out to wrap the fish in her hand, hefting its weight. It was more rigid than she’d thought it would be, and the smell of it all started to waft through the air stronger. It was a sharp smell, very distinctly of dead fish. She wrinkled her nose at it, but didn’t gag. 

“Dare you to kiss it,” the boy continued in a whining, teasing voice. Bending over, he puckered his lips like a fish and made noises at her. 

“That’s gross,” she said. The fish was dead and sandy and smelly and, though she was willing to do a lot, she knew that she did not want that fish near her mouth. “It’s got dirt on it.” 

“So? You like dirt. You’re like a boy,” he observed. “You want to be a boy.” 

That was about the most absurd thing Ashlyn had heard in her single-digit years. Of course she wasn’t a boy. She knew that quite clearly. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been wearing a shirt. Of course she didn’t want to be a boy. She liked getting dirty and she was most certainly a girl. She didn’t need to be a boy. 

“No I don’t,” she protested, standing up. The neighbor boy was her age, but he was obviously taller than she was. She puffed out her chest to appear bigger. “I’m a girl,” she insisted. The boy’s eyes gleamed. 

“Those are boy shorts,” he said, pointing at her basketball shorts. “If you’re a girl, you have to wear girl shorts.” Ashlyn glared at him. 

“They’re just shorts,” she said. Really, there was nothing else to be said about that because she really was wearing a pair of Chris’s old shorts. 

“Ashlyn wants to be a boy! Ashlyn wants to be a boy!” Ashlyn swung back her hand, fish still clenched in her fist and swung it back around across the boy’s face. The sound of wet, dead fish slapping his cheek hard was the most satisfying thing she’d heard in all her years. She grinned, holding back laughter, as she dropped the fish to the ground again, wiping her hands off on the sides of her pants. 

The boy screamed like he’d been murdered, which only made Ashlyn want to laugh harder. He hightailed it back through the tall grass. Ashlyn didn’t hear from him for the rest of the day, but his mother came to knock on the door that night. 

 

Ashlyn didn't make yet another roster. She exited the meeting room with her face set in steely disappointment, wishing that she wouldn’t have to face the other players in the camp. She knew there would be others who were cut for the Scotland games — both only 18-player rosters — but she couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to either be alone, or forget with people who wouldn’t know and, therefore, wouldn’t judge her plight. The sound of water rushed in her ears. She felt heavy pressure on her chest. 

What was worse was that Ali had been named to the roster. It was her first chance to play for the US after a year’s absence and it was definitely something that they should be celebrating. Instead, Ashlyn was moping over herself and her predicament and the fact that she was twenty-seven and still didn’t have a single senior cap to her name. 

“Baby, there’ll be other camps,” Ali assured her, running her fingers through Ashlyn’s hair. “Tom’s looking into so many new players that I’m sure he’ll look at you and give you a proper chance.” 

“That’s just it,” Ashlyn muttered in return. “He’s looking at a lot of new players. I’m old news. I’ve been through the cycles and missed every roster there was.” She scoffed. “He’ll call in someone else.” 

“Ashlyn Michelle Harris, look at me,” Ali commanded. Ashlyn immediately did as she was told. Her full name was insanely effective coming from Ali’s lips — nearly as bad as it was coming from her mother or grandmother. Ali took her face between her hands and looked at her seriously. “You cannot get down on yourself so hard every time something doesn’t work out. There will be other chances, but only if you show them that you are picking your head up, constantly moving forward, and working to become the best player you can possibly be.” 

Ashlyn knew that Ali was right. She’d said this before to Ashlyn, but it was a difficult thing to keep in mind when her hopes and goals were constantly crushed. Ashlyn tried to duck her head, embarrassed at her own self-pity, but Ali wasn’t having any of it. 

“You are so talented and so hard-working and I promise you,” Ali said emphatically, “that you will get that cap.” 

“Thank you,” Ashlyn said with absolute sincerity. She leaned forward and captured Ali’s lips in hers, showing her just how appreciative she was of her words. When she pulled away, Ali was melting in her arms a little, brushing her chest against Ashlyn’s. Ashlyn brushed a bit of hair away from her forehead. 

“I want to take you out tonight,” she said, “to celebrate. It’s not every day you make your grand return to playing for the National Team.”

After that camp, Ashlyn finally got things sorted out enough with FCR 2001 Duisburg that she would receive the paycheck she was due and she would be able to play for the Washington Spirit from the beginning of the season onwards. At the Algarve, she and Ali looked at apartment listings in D.C. on Ali’s laptop while their teammates made faces at them. 

“I wish I could play on the same team as my significant other,” Alex whined. 

“Just be gay, Baby Horse,” Ashlyn said with a wink. “It’d be a lot easier that way.” 

They ended up narrowing things down to the Georgetown area, which Ali was in love with, Adams Morgan, and Foggy Bottom. Ashlyn was balking at the prices of each place they looked at, convinced that they were in the wrong city (surely these were NYC or LA prices). When she’d played for the Freedom, she’d stayed in an apartment in cheaper Maryland. Eventually, the two compromised and chose a place in Foggy Bottom, far cheaper than Georgetown but with a location that put them in the center of everything. They settled on the cheapest one-bedroom they could find, but after sending in their information to the building, indicating their interest, they beamed like proud homeowners. 

 

At the Algarve, Ashlyn felt as though she was in her element. In training, she was focused. Healthy and back from her injuries of 2012, she was fit and ready. She was explosive in her drills, and it showed. The Algarve was also good to them because finally, finally the day arrived when Ashlyn was given her first cap — against none other than Sweden, a team that would surely be tough to beat.

She quietly accepted the news as Tom told her she’d be starting that game. It was surprising how calm she felt, how at ease. Everything had been building to that moment when she would take the pitch for the senior National Team, and all she felt was relief — that all her hard work had paid off, that she wasn’t completely laid waste by her long history of injuries, that she was finally making this crucial step in her career. 

“Whitney,” she said as she opened the door to her best friend’s room. Whit was just packing away some recovery equipment. “Whitney, I’m gonna get my first cap,” she said. 

Ashlyn knew she would keep Whitney’s letter with her long after the 90 minutes was up, long after her career was over. It was one of the nicest things she’d ever gotten from anyone, and it was a true testament to their friendship and the support Whitney had always had for Ashlyn. They had each other’s backs, in real life and in the game as well. 

It wasn’t a shut-out, but it also wasn’t a loss. Either way, Ashlyn found that she didn’t care as she basked in the excitement of the day. The field looked somehow more beautiful than she’d expected. The game was somehow so much better. She wandered around the pitch long after everything was over, wishing that they could go back for another round. The cap hadn’t sated her; it had made her hungry for more. 

“I was told that ‘my girl’ was still wandering around like a looney,” the familiar voice of Ali Krieger said, suddenly beside Ashlyn. She hadn’t noticed her walk up. 

“I’m just…taking it all in,” Ashlyn replied, indicating the scene on the bench — supplies from both sides were still stacked around there as staff members started packing everything away. 

“You played really well today,” Ali said. “I’m really proud of you.” 

“Thanks,” Ashlyn whispered. She looked around, but by that time everyone had basically left the field already. She couldn’t see a camera or a fan in sight, so she wrapped an arm around Ali’s shoulders and squeezed her, pressing a glancing kiss, barely a whisper of a touch, to the top of her head. 

“Alright, I think I’m ready to head back in,” she finally decided. And they walked back to the locker rooms together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you thought! 
> 
> Next time: the Spirit and Sweden


	15. Estuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No relationship is smooth all the time...But for every dark patch there is a brighter one.

Living together was different, but in all the best ways. Previously, they’d stayed with one another in their various ‘homes’ — Buffalo, Frankfurt, D.C., Satellite Beach. They’d lived out of suitcases together and dedicated drawers to one another. Now, the line was entirely blurred between what was Ashlyn’s and what was Ali’s…especially because, as Ashlyn had learned before, Ali really was secretly a huge slob when it came to cleaning her room. 

Ashlyn found herself rifling through piles of Ali’s stuff just because it seemed to spill out from everywhere. There had, at one point, been room enough in the closet for both their things, but then it was slowly taken over by Ali’s extensive purse collection. 

They fell into a routine together. Ali always woke up first. Ashlyn would roll out of bed later to the smell of coffee, which they would drink together in the kitchen while they made breakfast. Then they would head to training with Chris, their personal trainer, or with the team in middle-of-nowhere Maryland, Ashlyn leaving first to get there in time for goalkeeper training, and Ali arriving later with the field players. After training, they were free to do whatever, so they spent it exploring DC and visiting friends and family. 

As the season started, they both learned to work around each other as they completed their pre-game rituals. Ali, who’s game-day mostly just involved relaxation and painting her nails, learned not to step on Ashlyn’s need for precision and habit in everything she did — from her game day breakfast, to the music she listened to. Ashlyn learned to loosen up a little with it, only really slipping into her zone as they drove to the field (separately, as Ashlyn used to the time to center herself before entering the crazy locker room, entirely professional and focused).

As the season started, their routine also began to include losing every week. 

Ashlyn threw her bag down on the floor, hardly out of the way of the door and stalked to the bedroom she shared with Ali. It was a mess, thanks to Ali, and the sight only made Ashlyn grumble more. She rifled through clean shirts and sweatpants before finding what she wanted and stripping to change into the new clothes. She heard cursing from the front of the apartment and knew that Ali was probably back as well. 

“Ash,” she called out. Ashlyn didn’t answer, waiting for Ali to walk down the hall. She did, her footsteps loud on the hardwood. 

“Ash,” she said with clear exasperation. She was holding out Ashlyn’s bag in the hand that wasn’t occupied with her own stuff. “It doesn’t take much to actually take your bag to our room and put it where it goes.”

Ashlyn grabbed the bag from Ali but muttered as she turned around, “And it wouldn’t take much for you to pick up after yourself a little.” She heard Ali’s enraged scoff from behind her and knew that she had heard her. 

“Oh, so is this what we’re doing right now?” Ali asked pointedly. Ashlyn turned to see her standing in the doorway with her hand on her hip. Her eyes flashed dangerously. 

“Why not,” Ashlyn said, pushing past her. “Maybe if we fight some more at least one of us can win something tonight.” Back in the living room, Ashlyn collapsed on the couch, spreading out so completely that her feet hung off one end. She could sense Ali standing at the foot of the couch. 

“Is that what this is about?” she questioned. “Because I’m pissed, too, Ash. You’re not the only one who’s lost every single NWSL game they’ve played in. I’m on that field, too.” 

“Yeah, but this matters more for me,” Ashlyn said into the armrest. It muffled her voice a little. Ali’s voice wasn’t. In fact, she sounded more hysterical. 

“It matters more to you? Do you somehow think that I am not as invested in this team, in football, as you? What the fuck, Ashlyn?” 

“No,” Ashlyn replied sharply, rising from her position on the couch, “but if your team does bad, you’re not in danger of getting cut from anything. Everyone’s probably looking at my game and how many times I’ve let things slip. They probably think I’m a horrible keeper when really, if I didn’t have a shit back line, I might be able to save a bit more shots.” 

Ashlyn saw Ali visibly flinch at that last comment and knew she had gone a bit far. 

“Al,” she said hurriedly, her voice softer. “Al, Alex, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean you.” Ali didn’t reply. She was taking long, measured breaths, her eyes shut. “Alex,” Ashlyn repeated. She took a step closer to her and reached out to take her hand, but Ali pulled it away. 

“I have been trying so hard,” she finally said, her voice strained. “I really have.” 

“I know you have,” Ashlyn said. “You’ve done your best. The problem is the kids who don’t know anything and the coach who literally does not coach.” Ashlyn reached out again, and this time Ali let her touch her. “I’m just really frustrated with everything.” Ali let out a groan. 

“And you think I’m not? I hate this just as much as you do.” 

“No, but…” Ashlyn ran a hand over her face. 

She had been worried about this from the moment they went into practice and realized that their coaching staff and a good majority of their field players were green and incompetent. They’d both had some reservations, and so had Lori, but they’d all kept their mouths shut, silently praying that things would get better. Soon, they’d find their rhythm, some sort of connection on the pitch, and they would get better. 

That hadn’t happened, and it only led to losses, anger at one another, and disappointment. It seemed like the whole season was a hopeless cause. It didn’t help that they played against their friends — all of whom knew how badly they were struggling. There was no way to hide the embarrassment. 

All the while, Ashlyn worried about what was being said about her. The criticisms had started rolling in a few games in, when it became quite clear that the Washington Spirit was the exact opposite of a winning team. And what was at stake? Her position on the National Team. Her position as an allocated player. Her position on the Washington Spirit. What if Tom decided that there were better keepers in the NWSL — ones that played for winning teams? What if US Soccer decided to drop her and leave her to the mercy of the pay cap? What if the Spirit decided she wasn’t worth it and traded her across the country?

Ali was safe. She didn’t know how good she had it. Not a critic touched her; instead they were commending the hometown girl for battling adversity and returning to Virginia. US Soccer had need for her as she was still considered the best right back in the world. The Spirit would never willingly part with her. She was about as safe and secure in her career as a soccer player could be. 

“What are you mumbling about? Honestly, Ashlyn, speak up.” 

“I’m worried I won’t be able to do enough this season to keep my spot,” Ashlyn said a little bit louder.

“Ash, I don’t think — ”

“Save it, Ali. I’m not in the mood for anyone to lie to me right now.” 

Ashlyn walked around her, back into the bedroom and put herself to bed. It was only eleven thirty, but she really didn’t want to talk to Ali anymore. Laying there, she closed her eyes and tried to drift off, but her mind was moving at a hundred miles an hour. She couldn’t stop thinking about that night’s game and the fateful moment when she had let that goal in. She couldn’t stop thinking of the other games when the same thing had happened. 

Eyes still shut, Ashlyn heard soft footsteps in the room before she felt Ali climb into bed behind her. After careful rustling and shifting, Ali finally settled, and Ashlyn could sense the wide gap of space between them where usually they would be tangled together, pressing goodnight kisses to lips and cheeks and giggling like children as they fought for leg space. 

Despite her earlier anger, Ashlyn found herself looking over her shoulder at the shadowed outline of Ali’s body. She was facing away from Ashlyn as well, her breathing quiet, but far too fast for her to be asleep yet. Ashlyn turned over and made a choice. 

“Hey, Al,” she whispered. Ali shifted a little. “Al, I’m really sorry I said all of that. I didn’t mean it.” 

Silence in the dark, and then another rustle. Ashlyn waited, holding her breath, wondering if Ali would ever answer her. Cold seeped into her limbs and she wondered if she had messed this up, too. 

“Thank you,” Ali finally said. She turned onto her back so Ashlyn could see the way her lips turned down, the way her dark hair was splayed behind her head on the pillow. “I’m sorry, too.” She turned onto her side so that she was facing Ashlyn and continued, “Ash, we can talk about how you’re feeling if you want to, or any steps you want to take.” 

Ashlyn bit the inside of her cheek. It was late and she was bone tired from the game and all the emotions that ran inside of her. All she wanted, really, was for Ali to hold her. 

“Ashlyn, they all love you at camp. If they watch the games, they’ll see that you’re doing the best with what you have. When I said that I don’t think you have to worry, I was being serious.” 

“Ali, I’m not mad, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore tonight,” Ashlyn said. Ali’s words had hardly served as any comfort to her with the state her mind was in. She held out her arm to Ali. “Can we go to bed and talk about it tomorrow.” 

Ali pushed herself up on one elbow and gave Ashlyn a look. “I promise I’m not mad at you, Alex,” she repeated. “I’m just tired.” She motioned for Ali to move closer to her, and she finally assented, shifting so that she was resting her head on Ashlyn’s chest. Ashlyn sighed contentedly, rubbing her hand up and down Ali’s arm languidly. Her mind was still going, but she hoped that her body could find some relaxation with Ali around her like that. 

Ali suddenly shifted again and Ashlyn’s eyes opened. “Goodnight kisses,” Ali said softly, and pressed her lips against Ashlyn’s. The suddenness of such an innocent little moment made Ashlyn laugh softly as Ali continued to press kiss after kiss lightly on her lips before snuggling back down into her embrace. 

“Alright, cutie, time for bed actually,” Ashlyn said, her entire chest filled with the sort of warmth that made her physically ache, but in a good way. “I love you,” she whispered. 

“I love you, Ash,” Ali whispered in return. 

 

Living with Ali, especially in the midst of such a discouraging season, also made it impossible for Ashlyn to hide how low her lows sometimes were, and how they sometimes snuck up on her without any visible reason. 

During one of those days, Ashlyn was laying on the couch, curled up slightly to fit her legs on it, and watching TV blankly. They’d had training that morning, as usual, but when Ashlyn had driven back, she seemed to lose all energy and will to do anything. When Ali emerged from the kitchen, she walked over to rest her hand on Ashlyn’s thigh. 

“Down day?” she asked. Ashlyn nodded. “Do you need anything?” 

“Cuddle with me?” Ashlyn asked quietly, lifting one arm out to Ali. A soft smile spreading across her face, Ali clasped hands with Ashlyn and situated herself on the couch. Ashlyn shifted and the two of them laid one behind the other on their sides. Ashlyn sighed contentedly as she wrapped her arms around Ali’s middle, resting her head so that she could press kisses to the top of her head at her leisure.

On days like those, Ashlyn was even more thankful that Ali was there for her and, if she’d ever had any reservations over letting Ali have a second chance, they had melted away completely. Ali never balked at Ashlyn’s occasional need for more comfort, her spells of intrusive thoughts or crippling sadness that seemed to weigh her down. She kept her word and she stayed and all Ashlyn could do was tell her over and over again how much she loved her. 

She wasn’t entirely out of hope, though. There were the good days amidst all the losing, the way the team just couldn’t bring itself together, the way she was continually beat upon each game day. There was a day when she was offered a chance that she’d never thought she’d be given. 

Ashlyn didn’t exactly know how to tell Ali the news. They’d both been so excited at the prospect of playing and living together that, to mess that up — even for only a few months, seemed somehow like she was ruining everything single-handedly. Still, she knew she had to do it soon because Ali was giving her a measured, evaluating look over the top of her coffee mug as they sat across from each other at one of their favorite brunch places. 

“So…my agent called yesterday,” Ashlyn started. Ali perked up with interest. 

“Oh? Did he say anything?” 

“Yeah, actually,” Ashlyn said. She rubbed the back of her neck. “He said there was a team that wanted me to play for them, really badly.” She watched first as Ali registered her words, and then as her face fell. She set her coffee cup down. 

“Are you leaving?” she asked in a sort of broken whisper. Ashlyn sat up further in her seat, realizing immediately that she had gone about the whole thing in the entirely wrong way. “Is this about what we talked about last month?” 

“No, no, no,” she said quickly, trying to keep her voice low so as not to call the attention of the other customers sitting on the patio. “I’m not leaving the Spirit, Al, I promise.” Ali’s body relaxed minutely, but Ashlyn could still see the worry and anxiety in her look, her posture, the way the corners of her lips downturned. 

“Um, the team is Tyreso in Sweden,” Ashlyn explained. “They want another goalkeeper for their end-of-season push, so if I was to say yes, my contract would be from the end of our season to like October or November at the latest.” Ali blinked at her. 

“It’s not something I’ve said yes to, yet, Ali,” Ashlyn continued, trying to make everything sound as good as possible. “I can turn them down.” 

“No,” Ali said finally. “You should take it. I mean, I’ll miss you, but we’ve done this before, and you’ll get such good experience playing in Sweden. It would be good for you to not have an offseason, really.” Ali sounded a bit like she was convincing herself. 

“Are you sure?” Ashlyn said. “We can talk about it more.” 

“And we will,” Ali said, “but I think you should do it. I think it would be a real missed opportunity to say no…And aren’t they doing really well this season?” 

“Yeah, near the top I think,” Ashlyn replied with a smile. “They’re in the Champions League, too.” 

That night, as they settled in together in the dark, arms crossing waists in the usual ways, heads resting on pillows and chests and the tops of heads in the usual way, Ashlyn came up with a brilliant idea. 

“Alex,” she whispered into Ali’s ear. She could tell her breath tickled because Ali shivered a little and reburied her head in Ashlyn’s neck. “Alex, what if I asked if Tyreso wants to sign the best right back in the world, too?” Ali looked up. 

“Well, if they are looking,” Ali said, “this right back would love to play with them because she hears they’ve got this new American goalie who’s super hot.” 

 

It was already an adventure to travel to Sweden, everything they would need for their three-month stay packed in a variety of luggage. It was an even greater adventure for Ali because Ashlyn had seriously constricted the amount she was packing. And then, they found more adventure when they realized that the lodgings they had been given by the team were in a real, honest-to-god castle. 

The two of them stood side by side with their bags at their feet, looking at the grand stone structure for a good couple minutes before they even made a move to get everything inside. They were so awed, and so excited for their short-lived life in Sweden to begin. 

The season went well — filled with new friendships amongst their new teammates, exploring around Sweden as well as elsewhere in Europe, and plenty of time together. As the season drew to a close, the invitations to the Swedish Football Gala went out. Some of their teammates were up for awards, so they both definitely wanted to be there. Ashlyn thought it would be the perfect way to end the season. 

As she watched Ali out of the corner of her eye, though, her stomach churned with nerves. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and wondered whether asking her would be the right thing. They had gone out on a walk together that afternoon, down a familiar route around the castle they were staying in. The leaves of the trees around them seemed to be on fire, the branches proudly displaying an array of yellow, red, and orange. More leaves crunched under their feet. 

“Did you figure out what you’re wearing to the gala?” Ali asked. 

“Umm…” Ashlyn had been so focused on worrying about the question she wanted to ask Ali that she was taken completely by surprise. “Yeah, I think so,” Ashlyn said. “I have ideas, but I still need to go shopping.” She nudged Ali in the side with her elbow, loving the knowing grin that crept across her face. 

“I would love to help,” Ali said. “Especially because…” She paused and stopped in her tracks, causing Ashlyn to come to a halt as well. Ali faced Ashlyn, reaching out to take both of her hands in hers. 

“Is everything okay, Al?” Ashlyn asked. 

“Yes,” Ali replied, a bit sharply. “Sorry, it’s just…I’m trying to ask you something important, here, so please just let me.” She looked at Ashlyn with a puppy-like gaze. 

“Okay,” Ashlyn said. 

“Okay,” Ali repeated. She took another deep breath. “So, this is kind of a big thing for me, but I was thinking about it for a long time, and I realized that there was nothing I would like more right now. So, Ashlyn Harris…Will you be my date to the football gala?” 

Ashlyn stared at her, stunned, before she showed off a wide grin, so enormously proud of her girlfriend. The woman across from her, the most beautiful woman in the world in Ashlyn’s eyes, was holding her hands in the middle of the field, asking her to accompany her to an awards gala. Ashlyn could feel the corners of her eyes crinkle with how hard she was smiling. 

“You mean it?” she asked. Ali was biting her lip, looking a little sheepish. Ashlyn couldn’t help but pull her in close to her and place a kiss next to her lips.

“I mean it,” Ali assured her. “I want to be able to go to things like this with you. You know, not just that we’ll both be there at the same place.” 

“You’re amazing,” Ashlyn asserted with awe. She extricated her hands from Ali’s grasp to cup her face in her hands, drawing her in for a real kiss. She hummed against Ali’s lips with happiness.

 

They decided not to match exactly, but to be complementary with their outfits (“So that we kill it in the photos,” Ali had said. Ashlyn had argued that they’d kill it anyway.). They dressed in their separate rooms, Ashlyn finishing first. She wandered her way over to Ali’s room afterwards and rapped her knuckles on the door lightly before pushing it open. 

Ashlyn’s jaw nearly dropped. Ali’s back was facing the door. Her hair was in loose waves over her shoulder, exposing the strong muscles of her back where the short black dress she was wearing hadn’t been done up. 

“Couldn’t wait?” she said over her shoulder with a cute little wink. Heat flooded through Ashlyn. 

“You look gorgeous,” she got out in reply. Ali turned and walked over to her, pressing her lips against Ashlyn’s. 

“Mmm,” she hummed as she pulled away, keeping her hands resting on Ashlyn’s chest. “I’m glad I didn’t put on lipstick yet. You look so hot, Ash.” Ashlyn smirked at her, taking advantage of their position by running her hands down the open back of her dress. Ali jolted a little as her fingertips brushed the top of her panties. 

“We don’t have time for that right now, unfortunately,” Ali said, grabbing at Ashlyn’s arms to stop her. Ashlyn groaned. With the way her dress fell only to the middle of her thighs, Ashlyn was enthralled completely. Her fingers itched to touch her. “Here, zip me up,” Ali said, turning around. Ashlyn did as she was told, kissing Ali’s neck lightly as she went, and Ali had to bat her away so they could make it out the door. 

Their night started off smoothly enough, until they arrived at the gala and were bombarded by the flashbulbs of all the photographers that swarmed the long entranceway all the soccer players had to pass through. Beside her, she felt Ali stiffen and move away from her. Ashlyn glanced back at her to make sure that she was okay. Ali only gave her a terse nod and nudged her to continue walking in front of her until they made it past the press and were safely ensconced inside the large ballroom. 

When Ashlyn turned to face Ali again, her face was tense. Ashlyn let the back of her hand brush up against Ali’s in lieu of the embrace she wanted to envelop her in. Ali jolted and then seemed to really focus on her and her body began to relax. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know it would be that much.” 

“It’s okay, Ali,” Ashlyn replied. “You don’t owe them anything.” She watched as Ali’s face began to light up again. Confidence seemed to return to her limbs and embody her stance. Ashlyn couldn’t help but beam back at her in return. She was beautiful like that; so strong and so herself and utterly, completely Ashlyn’s. Ali grabbed ahold of Ashlyn’s arm and allowed her to escort her to their table. 

They sat with their teammates, Christen and Whitney and Kling, and drank and ate and Ali soon began to relax more fully as they sat back to watch the presentation of awards. The food was decent, but the champagne was better and they all had plenty. As they mingled with their teammates, and those of opposing teams in the Swedish league, Ashlyn watched Ali out of the corner of her eye, her breath catching in her chest as she saw just how beautiful she was like that, smiling eyes and soft hair. 

She reached over to place a hand on Ali’s knee, squeezing gently. Ali looked over at her with a smile and rested her hand on top of Ashlyn’s, the tablecloth obscuring them. Ashlyn sat back and listened to Ali telling whatever story she was telling, simply thinking. She could see the two of them like this in the future, going to events together, weddings together. Ashlyn ran her hand a little further up Ali’s leg, needing to see her smile in her direction again. 

Her heart thudded loudly and insistently in her chest. She was so in love. 

“Thank you for being my date tonight,” Ashlyn murmured into Ali’s hair as they snuggled together under the covers, skin against skin. Ali shifted against her to caress her cheek with her hand softly. 

“Thank you for giving me another chance to be with you,” she replied. Ashlyn opened her mouth to respond. Ali didn’t need to thank her for that. Everything was behind them, now. They were fine. They were perfect. Ali cut her off by pressing a kiss to her lips. It was sweet and soft and so unbelievably tender that Ashlyn couldn’t help but let out a moan at the feeling. She could feel the longing to be ever closer to her tighten her chest. 

Ali continued to hold her close as she broke off the kiss. “I’m serious, Ashlyn. You didn’t have to open yourself up like that again, but I am so glad you did. All I want to do is make you happy. Thank you for letting me try.” 

“You make me so happy, Alex,” Ashlyn croaked out, her voice hoarse. She nuzzled against Ali’s cheek, feeling the familiar choking sensation that usually preceded tears. But they would be happy tears. She really could see them like this far into the future. She couldn’t see anything else. 

Looking into her eyes, she could imagine the house together — a real one, with a fence and a yard, and room enough to host their friends. She could see the ceremony with the white dress and a tall cake and both their families and all their friends looking so proud to see them so happy together. She caught herself as she thought of the nursery, light pastels on the walls, little feet and little hands on someone that was all theirs. 

But she wanted it. She wanted it so intensely it scared her. 

“I love you more than anything, babe,” Ali returned. 

“I love you, too,” Ashlyn whispered into her hair. She wanted to tell her everything she was feeling and thinking in that moment, but she worried it might be too soon, too abrupt. She settled for wrapping Ali in her arms more fully and sighing against the skin of her shoulder. Together, they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what parts you like and whatnot. I love hearing feedback :)
> 
> Next time: A Thanksgiving conflict and TWLOHA


	16. Bulkhead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving brings back old conflicts, but new solutions. Cue Jamie Tworkowski.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apparently can't tell what day it is EVER. But it's summer so who's looking at a calendar. (Not me)
> 
> Also note that I know next to nothing about psychiatry or therapy or mental illness besides minimal personal experience so um take everything with a grain of salt. Honestly this should be the note for the entire fic.

Ali and Ashlyn made their way to Florida for Thanksgiving, but Ali went up to Miami and Ashlyn went down to Satellite Beach. With their careers keeping them both away from their families for most of the year, being separated from one another during the holidays seemed like the thing to do, no matter how much they both said they would miss each other. Anyway, surgery awaited Ashlyn in Satellite Beach along with her family and her grandma’s famous mac and cheese so, no matter how much Ali and Kyle pouted, she had to leave them. 

Though it was only a quick clean-up of her left knee, the injury and the surgery forced her to seriously consider her place on her team once again. Tyreso was in the Champions League, after all, but she needed to fix her knee as soon as possible, considering her history, and would need time to heal afterwards. 

There was a gathering before Thanksgiving. It wasn’t exactly a party, but everyone had wanted to see Ashlyn after she’d been gone for most of the year. As family members began to arrive to say hello to Ashlyn, the bottles of wine and cases of beer began to be brought out. Voices raised in relaxed enthusiasm. There was a game on in the background, which Ashlyn watched with her cousins, one of which was asking her extensively about her time with Tyreso and the Spirit and about all her teammates. Ashlyn thought it was sweet, but was quite aware that she’d only been talking about soccer and herself and grew a bit uncomfortable. 

In the background, her uncle was becoming more and more upset with the course of the game and made sure that everyone knew about it rather loudly. Ashlyn excused herself to get another beer from the fridge and walked into the kitchen to find her mother staring at a bottle of wine. Ashlyn paused in the doorway and watched as she poured a liberal helping into a glass before shooting it back with more urgency than enthusiasm. Setting the glass back on the counter with a clink, she turned towards the doorway and was startled by Ashlyn’s presence. 

Ashlyn backed away a step. “Mom,” she said. Lost. Her mother looked back at her with sad eyes. 

“Ashlyn,” she started. Ashlyn turned away and walked straight through the living room and out the front door, stopping by the garage to grab her longboard before she started heading down the street. 

She wasn’t technically supposed to longboard with her knee in the condition it was, but she didn’t care. The gentle caress of the air rushing by her was as calming as the sound of the wheels on the pavement. Hardly anyone was out on the street, so she took up the entirety of the pavement, curving back and forth from one side to the other all the way down to the beach. 

Though she was still wrapped up in her head, visions of the past meshing with the images she took in before her, something on the boardwalk caught her attention enough to get her to stop her board abruptly, taking long, halting strides to slow her momentum as she kicked up the end of the board and tucked it under her arm. A small crowd was gathered at the edge of the beach around a tall man with brown hair who was speaking from the steps of the boardwalk. 

“Sometimes,” Ashlyn heard him say as she approached, keeping to the very edge of the crowd so as not to impose. “What we need the most is someone to listen to what we’re feeling, what’s going on inside our heads. Whatever it is you’re feeling, you have to remember that it is valid. And remember that it is not something you have to shoulder alone. People need people. It’ll take a lot of courage, and it’ll take a lot of time, but opening up can be the most beneficial thing for your own closure and your own journey.” 

Ashlyn felt herself being drawn in by his words, physically, emotionally. She couldn’t help but inch forward a little as he began to finish up his speech, eager to hear more. There was a sense of desperation within her as he concluded his talk, smiling somewhat bashfully at the polite applause from his listeners. Ashlyn was too far in her own thoughts to clap. She wanted to hear more. 

She wondered if he would’ve stopped if they hadn’t met eyes. She wondered if it was somehow fate that he looked at her as he was beginning to step away and she looked back at him. And anyway, they did and he did weave through the last few lingering people to hold out an open hand to her.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Jamie Tworkowski. Did you like the talk?” 

“Ashlyn,” Ashlyn replied, shaking his hand. “I missed a lot of it, but what I heard…man, I wish I’d heard that stuff before.” He nodded his head as though unsurprised by her words. 

“I wish I’d known all this stuff when I was younger, too,” he said. “When I did finally go through that journey, it was because I had lost someone who was very important to me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ashlyn murmured in sympathy. Still drawn to him and his message, she added, “So now you give talks to people about feelings?” Jamie laughed a little, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

“In a way,” he said. “Have you heard of To Write Love on Her Arms?” Ashlyn shook her head. She had no idea what that even was. Mostly, though, she was reminded of Ali, and how she had love literally written on her arm. Jamie reached into the bag that was slung on his back and pulled out a flyer, handing it to Ashlyn. 

“Maybe we can talk some more about this,” he offered.

 

Thanksgiving was a strained affair. Ashlyn’s mom tried to apologize to her, and Ashlyn tried to forgive her, but she still held that resentment in her heart that she found she couldn’t shake. She found herself thinking about Ali a lot and how she was only a couple hours away. She couldn’t just get up and leave, though. Her family wanted to see her. Her grandmother was making her famous mac and cheese. And there was still her surgery. 

After her knee was properly patched up again, Ashlyn took Jamie up on his offer. 

“The important thing to remember is that we have to be open to talking about these things — how we’re feeling, what’s bothering us…good things too. It’s not anything strange or unnatural to experience struggles. Everyone struggles.” 

Ashlyn sat back in her seat and took a sip of her coffee. They had stopped by a local coffee shop by the beach that morning, taking their cups to the beach to watch the waves, the little children playing on the shore’s edge further down, the seagulls that winged around the boardwalk looking for food. Ashlyn’s crutches were propped up off of the sand against the side of her chair. 

She really liked Jamie. He had a kind voice, was obviously smart and thoughtful, and didn’t have a judgmental bone in his body. As he found out that she was in fact the Ashlyn Harris, Satellite Beach’s own soccer star, he merely smiled and hardly mentioned it at all. Ashlyn asked him questions about his non-profit. He asked her about her life — the non-soccer parts. He was amazingly easy to open up to. 

“So…like we’re doing right now?” Ashlyn asked. 

“Yeah, anything like this certainly helps. Whatever’s on your mind, you don’t have to carry alone. Even if you just want someone to listen and nothing else, that can help lighten the load.” He took a sip from his own cup. “There’s also therapy,” he said. Ashlyn laughed humorlessly.

“I’ve been through enough of that stuff for three people at least,” she replied snidely, remembering the long days of rehabbing her knees and shoulder. She would start again the next day, and she wasn’t looking forward to it. Jamie was looking at her quietly. She could feel it, even though she kept her eyes trained on the crashing waves. 

“Physical therapy?” She nodded. “What I’m suggesting is pretty different from that. You’ll have the chance to talk to someone and get everything out. They won’t know your past or anyone in your life, so you don’t have to worry about them taking sides. They can offer a professional opinion and understanding of exactly why you’re feeling how you’re feeling.” 

“But isn’t that for people who actually have…like…mental issues?” Ashlyn shifted next to him uncomfortably. Physical therapy was done to fix fucked up muscles, ligaments, limbs. Therapy therapy…wouldn’t that be used to fix someone’s fucked up mind? The thought terrified her. 

“Not necessarily,” Jamie said. “But what would be so bad about that? People’s bodies get hurt.” He looked down at Ashlyn’s knees. She’d already told him about the ACL tears. “They get fixed up and get better. Why can’t the mind be the same way? What’s the difference?” 

Ashlyn opened her mouth to respond. Of course there was a difference. But she couldn’t think of why and she couldn’t think of how, and so she simply shut her mouth again. Maybe Jamie was right. 

“I get it, though,” he said. “Sometimes it’s a pride thing, sometimes it’s a fear thing. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I’m sure there are plenty of people in your life you can have these serious conversations with.”

Ali. Whit. Niki. Grandma. Even Abby. Chris. She tentatively added Kyle to the list. 

As they wrapped up their things and started to say goodbye to one another, Jamie added something else. “Journalling helps sometimes, too,” he said, “in the same way that talking to someone does. It’ll help you think through everything that’s happened to you. And the best part is that no one has to see it if you don’t want them to.” 

 

Ashlyn went up to DC to stay with Ali in their apartment as the holidays wound down. They met each other in the airport, a reunion of eyes telling one another how much they were missed. Hands brushing against hands and backs and arms as they helped each other with their luggage. Mouths meeting as they finally made it into Ali’s car and they could say a proper hello. Ali tasted so sweet. Ashlyn sighed against her lips, relieved beyond belief to be back with her and eager to tell her about her new friend. 

They were cuddling together on the living room couch with takeout on the coffee table in front of them. The volume of the TV was so low, it might as well have been off. Ashlyn was busy telling Ali about Thanksgiving — her mother’s slip-up, meeting Jamie, everything they’d talked about, and everything she’d learned. She ran a finger down Ali’s tattoo, tracing the letters. 

“It’s called To Write Love on Her Arms,” Ashlyn said, grinning a little. 

“What a coincidence,” Ali replied, shivering a little under Ashlyn’s touch. “Are you going to do what he suggested?” 

“What? Journal?” Ashlyn replied. “I suppose it might be alright. I’ll have to go buy a notebook or something.” 

“Actually, I meant the therapy,” Ali corrected. Ashlyn pressed her lips together tightly, looking away from Ali. Jamie’s words were still fresh in her mind, but she still had reservations about actually going. The movies certainly didn’t portray a visit to the therapist as being anything but a terrifying, awkward, outrageously expensive pastime. 

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, baby,” Ali said, reaching up to cup Ashlyn’s cheek. “It’s just that it might be something interesting to try. You might be able to learn how best to be happy.” 

“I am happy,” Ashlyn insisted. “With you, I’m happy.” Ali smiled at her softly and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. 

“I’m glad you’re happy with me, but we both know that you get down a lot for reasons you don’t even know. And I know you’re still holding in a lot of things about your family. I want to help you, and I will try everything I can to help you, but I worry that I’m not going to be enough.”

“You’re enough,” Ashlyn whispered to Ali. Her voice cracked even though she was speaking so low. She leaned closer to Ali to rest their foreheads together, breathing in her comforting scent and entwining their fingers together. Just being close to her was helping. Ashlyn knew it. 

“Ashlyn, I just want you to have the best life you can,” Ali said. 

 

Ashlyn fidgeted as she waited in the lobby of the office. She was alone except for the secretary that sat collating papers behind the desk up front and another “patient” who was reading a magazine by himself. Her leg bounced up and down as her eyes darted around at the “calming” pictures on the lightly-colored walls. She couldn’t believe that she was actually doing this. 

Jamie had been an amazing help after she’d finally given in to Ali’s suggestions that she just try a session to see how it went. She’d finally called him and asked for some recommendations and he had been happy to talk her through the process and give her some resources to look into. She made the call and booked her appointment but, when Ali asked if she wanted her to accompany her, Ashlyn said no. Sitting there, she almost wished she’d said yes. It seemed a bit silly, but she just really wanted to hold Ali’s hand. 

“Ashlyn Harris?” the secretary called out. Ashlyn’s head perked up. “You’re alright to go in now, honey.”

\--

There was a science behind the way her mother didn’t get up that morning; or so they told her. 

Ashlyn poked open her bedroom door with her bare foot, still bleary-eyed from sleep, and padded across the hall to the bathroom where she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and combed through her hair, staring at it a while, trying to decide whether she should consider going an even lighter shade. Finished getting ready for the day, she headed towards the kitchen for some breakfast. 

The house was eerily quiet as she poured her favorite cereal into a bowl and grabbed a spoon out of the drawer. Turning, she noticed a couple other cabinets they rarely used had their doors thrown open. She closed them and carried her breakfast to the table to eat. She crunched on a couple bites. She paused and looked around and swallowed. There was absolutely no sound. 

“Mom?” She called out as she put her empty bowl in the sink. Backpack slung on her shoulder, she headed back down the hall towards the bedrooms to see where her mom was. She was usually always up to have breakfast with Ashlyn before school. She had work to go to, after all, and she always said she wanted to see Ashlyn off. A goodbye hug. A goodbye kiss. A “have fun at school”. The normal things. 

“Mom?” she said again, a little louder. The bathroom was empty. The living room had been empty. Peering out the front and back windows, she hadn’t seen any sign of her mom. Ashlyn knocked on her mom’s bedroom door and waited, then pressed her ear up against the cold wood and listened. Silence. 

She pushed open the door slowly and her heart broke. 

Shit. Shit shit shit. She ran to the side of her mom’s bed and knelt down beside her. She was splayed across the mattress, sheets bundled at the end, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Ashlyn dropped to her knees and pried the bottle out of her mom’s limp grip. It was whiskey or something and nearly all gone. There were a couple other bottles glinting from under the bed. She pulled them out as well. 

Reaching up, she shook her mother, but she only stirred slightly and refused to wake up. Ashlyn’s chest felt tight against her racing heartbeat. She was breathing, at least. That was something, but only a slight relief. She took the bottles out back and threw them into the recycling bin, listening to them clank together loudly. Back in her mother’s room, she nudged her again. She didn’t get up. 

Ashlyn hadn't ever been what anyone would call a “good student”. She had too much energy inside of her to sit still much as a child. She found that her eyes couldn’t focus well enough at the little squiggles of words on a page to read without much difficulty. She didn’t think much of grades or projects or getting along with the teachers, and was an infamous rough-houser with the boys at recess. She’d skipped before to hang out with her friends, skating or surfing, or even just grabbing lunch. 

This time, she skipped entirely by herself. She threw her board down on the street in front of her house, her school bag discarded back in her room, and set off to the skate park, choking on her breath. 

 

It wasn’t a choice to become that way. 

“Mom,” Ashlyn said, stopping herself in her tracks as she looked into the kitchen. Her mother, one hand at the small of her back, tipped down a glass of something dark. She let out a sigh. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Ashlyn Michelle,” she said. There was a bottle on the counter in front of her, from which she poured another glass. She took a long gulp. “I have had a hard day and I need this.” 

Ashlyn’s heart pounded watching her, wondering what she could possibly do to stop her. She swallowed thickly. 

“Mom, Coach is getting us new uniforms,” Ashlyn told her mom. She watched as the liquid in the bottle disappeared right before her eyes, like a magic trick. “I’ve got the prices here. We have to pay for them now so they’ll get to the school on time.” 

Her mom’s attention was drawn to her for a second. Ashlyn could feel her mother’s eyes looking her up and down, unfocused. She wondered if she should repeat herself. Her mom reached into her pocket and rifled through old receipts and coupons. Not finding what she was looking for, she went over to her purse and rummaged through it for a few minutes, only to pull out a couple wadded up 10s and some ones. 

“Here,” she said, shoving the bills into Ashlyn’s hand with a look of disdain, as if she couldn’t imagine money going to something as horrible as a goalkeeper kit. “Take that in.”

Ashlyn flatted the bills between her fingers — $23. Maybe that was good for the shorts. She could probably pull some cash together for the new socks, but she didn’t have money for the jerseys she had to buy. 

“Thanks,” she muttered. She looked over her shoulder again and again as she left. Her mother was bent over the counter, resting her head in one hand, the other keeping a tight grip on her glass. Ashlyn looked back at the house as she threw her longboard onto the street and hopped on, kicking off to get her going at a nice speed to her grandparents’ house. 

“Ashlyn, come sit with me.”

Ashlyn walked over to her grandmother tentatively and sat down next to her on the couch. She had already been given the money she asked for. She would be able to buy her uniforms and play soccer at school. Her grandmother looked at her with sad eyes the entire time, though. She reached out to take Ashlyn’s hands between both of hers. They were warm and wrinkled and familiar. 

“Ashlyn, what would you say to staying with me and your grandfather for awhile?” she asked, one thumb rubbing comfortingly across Ashlyn’s skin. Ashlyn bit at the inside of her cheek. “It might be better for you, honey.” 

“But then…” She trailed off. Who would take care of Mom? That was what she wanted to ask. But something stopped her, and it made her sick. She didn’t want to be the one there to take care of her. She didn’t want to pick up after her or watch her struggle or hear her slurred promises or face her when those promises were broken. She didn’t want to be there. 

She looked up at her grandmother and scooted herself closer to her, folding herself into her arms like she was a little kid again. “Okay, Grandma,” she agreed, closing her eyes as she felt her grandmother stroke through her hair. 

The alcohol changes the chemicals in the brain.

This wasn’t a choice. 

\--

Ashlyn knew that Ali was trying to give her space when she came back to the apartment. She looked at her for a long time when she walked in and kissed her lightly and took her jacket. Ashlyn knew she wasn’t going to ask until Ashlyn said something first. 

She didn’t bring it up until after dinner, when they were cuddling together on the couch. She was still working things through a little — what she’d had to remember and talk about, what the man had explained about addiction and alcoholism, depression and guilt. She hardly knew how she felt walking out of that office. She hardly knew what to say. 

“I think I understand why she did what she did a bit better,” Ashlyn told Ali. “And I understand that she probably didn’t want to hurt me so much, but it was out of her control.”

“You want to know what Kyle told me after he got sober?” Ali asked. She was playing with Ashlyn’s hands from where she was seated in between her legs, laying back so that she was enveloped in Ashlyn’s body. “He told me that he knew what he was doing was wrong, but he was so far gone that he couldn’t stop. But, he said, he was trying every day to change. There was always the struggle there and there was always the fight and I think that’s how it was for your mom, too.” 

“You think?” 

“Well, she’s related to you,” Ali started, “And you’re one of the strongest people I know.” Ashlyn’s grip around Ali’s waist tightened as she rested her forehead against the top of Ali’s head. “I don’t know how you do it, Ashlyn, but you are so strong and you inspire me every day.” 

“You inspire me, Princess,” Ashlyn murmured in return. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read and also the patience. Let me know what you think about this one! 
> 
> Next time: Some doubts, some domesticities, and the return of an old dream.


	17. Inlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlyn looks to the future, but Ali has some doubts she has to work through. Change and growth both take a long time.

Ashlyn thought she would go stir crazy with every roster that was released without her name on it. As each camp rolled around, she was left at home while Ali packed up her things and headed out — first to Carson, then to the Algarve, then to Colorado and San Diego to play in a series against China. 

“You’re still recovering. Give it time,” Ali said, pecking her lips. 

“My knee is perfectly fine now,” Ashlyn replied petulantly. 

_I wonder what would’ve happened if I refused surgery and played in the Champions League instead _, Ashlyn wrote that winter. She really had taken up journaling, a pastime that mostly chronicled her recovery and PT thus far and her annoyance at not being a part of the National Team. Her fear then was that she would never be called back in. One surgery — harmless, merely a precaution — and she would be sidelined from the National Team for the rest of her career. Jamie had told her to write down the bad stuff because it would be freeing, like letting go. He told her to write down the good stuff so that, when things got hard, she could look back at those times and smile and remember. At the moment, there were more bad entries than good and looking back was like peering into a storm cloud.__

_Sometimes I feel like I’m not good enough to be with Ali _, she wrote. She scratched it out.__

_That’s not true. I feel like I will always be there on the sidelines, watching Ali do great things. I love her, and I love supporting her, but I would like to be known as something other than ‘Ali Krieger’s Girlfriend’, if I ever even become a name on the National Team. I hate the feeling that I’m holding her back — that I’m taking something away from her each time she makes a roster and I don’t. I don’t want her to feel bad for me or think that she has to comfort me all the time. I don’t want her to worry about how disappointed I am in myself. ___

_I think I’m more worried about how I feel affecting her than it affects me._

It was something she talked over with her therapist as well, as she had been going in for sessions about once a month. They certainly did help her understand things a little better and she felt herself improving or, at least, she was able to cope better with her highs and lows. 

“You can’t be worried that you’re not good enough for Ali,” her therapist said from his seat, his eyes slightly hidden behind the glare that flashed across his glasses. “She is an independent person, just like you, who makes the decision every day to be with you. That is her decision to make. Now, you have the right and ability to terminate the relationship if you are unhappy, but it is not your decision to make if you think she is or will be unhappy.” 

“Well…I guess,” Ashlyn assented. She was sitting in an armchair opposite him — something she hadn’t expected when she’d first come into his office. She’d imagined that weird lounge and staring up at the blank ceiling. Sitting in the chair was more comforting to her. It felt more normal. “So, you’re saying not to think about it?”

“Trying not to think about it will only make you worry more, Ashlyn,” he corrected. “You should examine how you feel. A better understanding of yourself will help with the depression and anxiety.” 

“Okay,” Ashlyn said. She bit at the inside of her cheek at the mention of both ‘depression’ and ‘anxiety’. They were diagnoses that she was still getting used to. It was one thing to think that she was sad often, and that was it. It was another thing to know that there was something in her that caused that. It was another thing entirely to accept that having depression was entirely fine and that she could move on and live a perfectly average life with it. 

“Tell me about your last visit home,” her therapist prompted after a moment of reflection. “You said Ali and your mother were getting along alright.” 

Ashlyn grinned a little at the memories of their latest visit, distracted completely from her contemplation of the fact she had depression and mild anxiety. She opened up easily about how they’d arrived alright and Chris met them at the airport, how her parents were so happy to see both her and Ali and how they really welcomed her into the family well. 

When the session was over, her therapist shook her hand and told her that this would not be a clear, straight path to a finish line of always being happy. “There will be bumps,” he said and then, chuckling a little at his own bad joke, “maybe for you, waves would be more appropriate. You just have to keep your head up and continue doing whatever it is that is helping. You’re improving so much.” 

 

“I’m glad to see you back in camp, Ashlyn,” Cap said as the team gathered in the Winnipeg hotel. They’d have a few days to train before the games against Canada — always an interesting opponent. 

“Me too,” Ashlyn replied with a little laugh. “I almost thought I was actually done for a bit, there.” 

“Things are changing again,” Cap noted. Ashlyn saw as her eyes focused behind her. Cap nodded her head in that direction. “Anyway, I think a certain someone is also very happy to have you back in camp.” 

Ashlyn didn’t have time to turn around before she felt a familiar weight crash into her from behind, familiar arms wrapping around her waist. Laughing, she reached her arm up to wrap around Ali’s shoulders. Ali stood on her toes to press a kiss to Ashlyn’s lips. 

“Damn right,” she agreed. “Plane rides are better with you,” Ali said cutely. “Hey, you wanna meet A-Rod’s new little man?” 

There were a couple “soccer moms” on the team. Cap, of course, had Rylie and Reese, who were always a real treat to have in camp with everyone else. But A-Rod had also had a baby and made her way back into camp with the cutie in her arms as well. Ashlyn hadn’t gotten a chance to meet little Ryan Shilling because she hadn’t been in camp, but Ali had and was excited to show him off to her. 

Ashlyn nearly squealed upon seeing him and his cute little head of blonde hair. He was dressed in a shirt with a soccer ball on the front and was stuffing his fingers in his mouth while A-Rod bounced him up and down.

“He looks like a little monkey,” Ashlyn cooed, brushing a finger along his cheek. The kid certainly had some ears on him, but they only added to his adorableness. “Hey, little man.” 

The three of them laughed together as A-Rod recounted some funny Ryan stories with them, mostly involving the fact that he was teething, until Ali asked to hold him and the baby was passed along. Ali balanced Ryan on her hip, leaning back a little to watch him as his wide eyes darted from person to person, landing back on his momma. 

“Aw, he’s such a momma’s boy,” Ali laughed as Ryan reached out a hand to A-Rod again. The other was still stuffed in his mouth. Ali used her free hand to pull the fingers out and tickle his neck a little to stop his lip from quivering. He finally smiled at her, patting the collar of her shirt with his slobbery paw. 

Ashlyn grew quiet as she watched them interact, finding herself completely drawn-in by the sight of Ali with a baby in her arms. She gulped and wiped her slightly sweaty hands on her pants. Ali was a natural, knowing exactly what to do to keep little Ryan happy as she continued to talk to A-Rod. 

"You okay, Ash?” Ali asked. Ashlyn jolted from her daydreaming to see Ali looking at her with mild concern. A-Rod’s eyes looked knowing, which only served to make her nervous. 

“I’m fine,” Ashlyn replied. 

“You want to hold him?” Ashlyn nodded enthusiastically. Looking back at Ryan, Ali said to him, “You’re gonna meet another aunty. I know, there’s so many, but I promise that Aunty Ash is a lot of fun.” 

The corners of Ashlyn’s lips lifted at Ali words and her heart thudded as Ali moved closer to pass Ryan between the two of them, keeping her hands on his back and bottom to keep him steady until Ashlyn had him safely in her arms. The action was so domestic and, in a way, intimate that Ashlyn could barely handle it.

Ryan looked at her a bit like she had two heads but Ashlyn quickly fixed everything by puffing out her cheeks at him and making funny noises. By the time Cheney swooped by to pick up her favorite little boy, Ashlyn and Ryan had become good friends. Ashlyn passed him off with a smile but, as he was taken out of her arms, she felt weirdly empty. She held onto Ali instead. 

“I saw that look, Ashlyn,” A-Rod muttered to her teasingly as she picked up her baby bags to follow Cheney. “You gonna tell her?” She winked at her as she left and Ashlyn was only thankful that Ali hadn’t seemed to have been paying attention. 

She was distracted during that day’s training, not thinking about babies specifically, though that was a subject that crossed her mind in between drills, but about the future. The future with Ali. She wanted so much with her, and she’d never told her. They never really talked about the future in all its grand uncertainty. 

 

After their games against Canada, Ali and Ashlyn returned to DC to get back to their season with the Spirit. They were doing a lot better this season with Mark Parsons and were looking to improve even more. 

“What are you doing, Princess?” Ashlyn asked as she pressed a kiss to the top of Ali’s head. She was wearing her glasses, which she rarely did, and was sitting at the dining room table with a cup of coffee, her laptop, and a stack of papers. Ashlyn ran a hand along her shoulders as she headed only a few feet away to grab herself a cup of coffee as well. 

“Bills,” Ali said, rolling her eyes. “And rent’s due, too so…” 

“I always forget,” Ashlyn admitted. 

“Why do you think I’m the one doing all this?” Ali replied, tongue between her teeth. “Oh, but you have to do laundry today,” Ali reminded her. “And if you could pick up some more milk and salad stuff I’d love you forever.” Ali batted her eyelashes at her, making Ashlyn laugh. 

“I think I can do that,” she said, wrapping an arm around Ali. “Look at us,” she said, kissing her cheek, “so domestic.” She paused, feeling her body stiffen with her own choice of words. As she set her coffee cup down on the table, the clunk sounded too loud in her ears. 

“You good?” Ali asked, rubbing Ashlyn’s arm. 

“Yeah,” Ashlyn said, sitting down beside her. She took a breath. “Hey, Al, have you ever thought of the future?” she asked tentatively. 

Ali looked at her curiously. “Yeah, of course,” she said. 

“No, I mean like the future of…us? Like, us together?” The seconds that passed in between her question and Ali’s answer made her increasingly more anxious. 

“Well, yeah,” Ali finally said. “I mean, I don’t want there to not be a future with us…Did that make sense?” 

Ashlyn laughed with relief. “Yeah. At least, I hope you said what I think you said.” 

“Why the sudden questions?” Ashlyn looked down into her lap a bit sheepishly, her hands clasped on her legs.

“Umm…Before you say anything, I’m not asking the question or anything.” Ali looked at her with a confused expression, obviously not following. “I was just thinking…I don’t know. This is probably stupid…” 

Ali reached out to grip one of Ashlyn’s hands. “You know you can tell me anything, right? Even if it’s stupid — which it probably isn’t — I want to hear it. Definitely.” She gave Ashlyn an encouraging little smile. 

“Well, I was wondering…If you really do picture a future with us, is marriage in the cards?” Ashlyn looked at Ali for a second, before plowing forward, her words coming a mile a minute. “I mean, I know how much you like weddings and you’ve always wanted to get married, but we’ve never talked about it and I thought that it was a little weird. But, of course, maybe you’ve…” Ashlyn sucked a breath in, having completely worn herself out. “Changed your mind,” she finished, quieter. 

Across from her, Ali withdrew her hand. “Ashlyn…” she started. Ashlyn’s jaw grew slack with surprise at her tone. She wondered if she was about to get her heart broken. “Can we even do that?” 

“What?” she replied. “Of course we can, Ali. It’s not like it’s illegal everywhere. It’s just…well, we couldn’t get married in Virginia…or Florida…” 

“I’m just…” Ashlyn waited anxiously as she watched Ali search for the words. “I don’t know,” she finally said, and Ashlyn felt like she wanted to just melt into the chair and disappear. “I suppose I never even thought about it.” 

“Right,” Ashlyn said, her voice tight. She stood from the table, hardly feeling like she was the one controlling her movements. She grabbed the set of keys laying at the opposite end of the table and made a move to the front door of their apartment. “I’ll just…I’ll get the groceries I guess.” The last she saw, Ali was staring at her from her seat, arms wrapped around her middle, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. 

Ashlyn spent entirely too long at the grocery store for what she had to get. It was sad, walking up and down the aisles and back again, but she couldn’t bring herself to go back home. She didn’t know how she was supposed to face Ali after their talk. In the span of only a few minutes, her vision of their future was torn apart. She couldn’t believe Ali expressly said that she wanted them to be together in the future, but couldn’t imagine marrying her. 

As she made the short walk back to their apartment, a couple paper bags in her hands, Ashlyn supposed that marriage wasn’t a necessity to have a committed, long-term relationship. After all, she knew that many same-sex couples had to go through that. Still, she wanted to marry Ali. She wanted to call her her wife and be a wife to her. And then there was the return of that old worry that Ashlyn thought had been forgotten — was Ali still so worried about being seen in a relationship with her? 

Back at home, Ashlyn went about her chores and Ali did hers. The tension between them was nearly tangible. Ashlyn did a bit of sulking around the apartment and, meanwhile, Ashlyn could tell that Ali was walking on eggshells. Good, she thought. 

“I know you’re upset with me,” Ali said finally. Ashlyn was laying out on the couch. Ali sat herself on the edge near Ashlyn’s legs. Ashlyn only shrugged in response. “I understand why,” Ali continued. “I’m really sorry for what I said, Ashlyn. It all took me a bit by surprise.” 

“You wouldn’t have been surprised if I was a man,” Ashlyn muttered. She could visibly see Ali stiffen in front of her. She knew it was a mean thing to say, but she also believed it to be very, very true. “That’s what’s so fucked up about this. We love each other. We want to be with each other for a long time, and yet you’ve never thought about marrying me?” 

“I was caught off guard,” Ali replied firmly. Her face was growing a little red, but whether that was from anger or frustration or what, Ashlyn couldn’t tell. “Yeah, I’d never really thought about it, but only because I didn’t think it was something we’d ever be able to do.” Quieter, she said, “I do want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re it for me.” 

Ashlyn sat up to look at her. “You mean that?” Ali nodded, her lips pursed, brow furrowed, face growing a tinge darker red. Ashlyn could tell then that her coloring was the effect of trying not to cry. 

“I’m really sorry I hurt you,” Ali told her. “I need you to know that I do want that with you — I want everything life can offer with you. It just took a little for my brain to realize that that could happen.” 

As Ashlyn pulled Ali into a hug, she felt the pieces of her heart that were scattered only hours earlier were being pieced back together. Ali murmured more apologies in Ashlyn’s ear as they hugged, her lips getting closer and closer to touching her skin with each one. Finally, Ashlyn couldn’t stand it and she turned Ali’s head so that she could steal a kiss. 

“I didn’t picture life would be like this,” Ali admitted. “I didn’t picture love would be like this. But this is better than anything I possibly could’ve imagined. It’s better because it’s you.” 

 

A few months later, she found herself back on the beach again. Her subconscious was drawn there as strongly as her body was. And it was the same dream; always the same. She had become familiar with this nameless, unplaceable beach from her dreams. This one, a continuation from a nightmare of long ago, picked up where it had left off from. 

She had just fought for her life in the wild surf, pulling her tired and beaten body onto the shoreline. But she had lost something…Someone. It was the girl — the woman — who she had called out to. Still breathing heavy, she hoisted herself into a standing position, stumbling up the beach with legs like lead. Like before, her eyes scanned the sand around her, dark and hard-packed, and the swaying grass that covered the distant dunes. 

There she was, like a mirage in the distance. She was far enough away that her features couldn’t be seen. Even though the air had stilled, her dark hair billowed around her. A pang shot through her chest as she rested her eyes upon the girl — relief, longing, loss. All she knew was that she had to catch her and take her up in her arms. It was the only thing she wanted. 

“Hey!” she called out, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. The woman seemed to turn and look at her before hurrying away in the opposite direction. She took after her immediately, feet slapping hard against the sand. 

She ran and ran and kept the woman in sight, but just out of reach until suddenly she just wasn't there anymore. She slowed and stopped in front of a pool. It was made through the waves coasting over a little indent in the sand. The water there was only a couple inches deep, clear and rippling gently, the edges of the pool frothy with sea foam. She looked down into the pool and saw her reflection, hazy and obscured by the movement of the water. 

Then, out of the edge of her vision, she saw a long, delicate finger touch the surface of the water. A larger ripple spread out from the center of her touch and the pool calmed. The image cleared. She looked up to see if the woman was there, across the pool from her, but she was gone again. She knelt closer to the tranquil pool and looked in. 

There she was. But she didn’t look how she thought she must, coming straight out of the ocean as she had. Her hair was dry, in long golden waves. Her face clear, sun-kissed, relaxed. Her eyes were bright. She looked happy. Looking down at the image, her brow furrowed. She leaned in even closer, unable to understand how she was seeing this or what it meant. 

The ghost of a touch caressed her bare shoulder. It was warm and soft and familiar and she knew immediately that it was the woman. A feeling of absolute contentedness filled her and warmed her from the inside as she relaxed into the touch. She was directed to look up, and in the distance down the beach, she could see a small child. The touch faded away, but she did not feel its absence like a loss. In a way, she felt the woman’s presence with her still. She stood, watching the child. 

Another pang in her chest, and she set off running again. And she ran until she woke up. 

 

“You were moving around a lot. Was it a bad dream?” 

Ashlyn looked over to see Ali on her side of the bed, propped up on one arm, simply looking at her. The covers pooled around her waist. Ashlyn shook her head and let her body relax back into the pillows again. She stared at the ceiling, letting the last hazy images of her dream play out for her again. She could nearly see it in her mind’s eye. Nearly. 

“I remember running,” she said, letting her voice trail off. She could remember running down the beach clearly. She could remember the grit of the sand. The feeling in her chest was still there — that longing that ached terribly. And then she saw the hazy, blurred image of a child in the distance. 

“Running sounds like a goalkeeper’s nightmare,” Ali joked. 

The child had just been standing there, all alone, on the beach. Ashlyn rubbed her sternum, as if that could alleviate her pain. She didn’t even know why she hurt so much. She almost wished she could be dragged back to sleep so that she could try to catch up to the child. She needed to see them; she couldn’t tell if they were a boy or a girl. 

“Well, we gotta get up now, track star,” Ali said, nudging Ashlyn in the side. “You’ve got the thing with Jamie today.” 

“Oh yeah,” Ashlyn said. The corners of her lips lifted a little at that. They were in Satellite Beach to hang out with Ashlyn’s family and friends, and Jamie had asked Ashlyn if she would do some promotional work for To Write Love on Her Arms. Ashlyn jumped at the chance, of course, not only to help her friend but because she wanted as many people like her to learn about TWLOHA as possible. 

They took turns in the bathroom and got dressed in light outfits for the hot summer weather in Satellite Beach before donning flip flops and sunglasses and heading out the door to grab some brunch at the local diner. Then it was a drive a little bit further away to get to Jamie’s TWLOHA headquarters. Ashlyn rapped her knuckles on the door to his office before she pushed the door open. 

“Ashlyn!” Jamie said, his smile crinkling his eyes. He got up from his desk and pulled her into a tight hug. “Long time, no see. I’m so glad you came over.” 

“Of course,” Ashlyn replied. “How could I miss this opportunity? Oh, Jamie, this is Ali. Ali, this is Jamie,” she introduced. 

“Ashlyn talks a lot about you,” Jamie said as he held out a hand to Ali. “The one with love tattooed on her arm.” 

“Same with you,” Ali replied, shaking his hand. “I have to say a serious thank-you. You’ve been kind of like her savior, especially when I couldn’t be there.” 

Ashlyn wrapped an arm around Ali’s waist and pressed a feather-light kiss to her temple. She needed Ali to know how much of a savior she had been; how much she had done for Ashlyn as well. Jamie said it out loud for her. 

“From what I hear, you’ve got some amazing healing powers, too.” 

Jamie introduced them to the photographer who would be working with Ashlyn on the TWLOHA promotional photos they’d be using on social media and led them to the room where they’d do the shoots. The background was already set up — a red pattern of carpet on the floor — and so were all of the lights and other equipment. Jamie pulled out a couple boxes of the organization’s merchandise, asking Ashlyn to pick out her size of the new tank tops they’d just gotten printed. 

“No one else can play your part” they said in white lettering — a reminder that everyone was important; a reminder to stay on this earth another day. Ashlyn didn’t bother with using the bathroom or anything, instead shucking off her shirt without a thought and putting on the new one. 

“Looks really cool with the sleeve,” Jamie noted, and directed Ashlyn over to the set-up before the photographer took over. They took a couple different shots of Ashlyn laying there, her eyes unfocused and hair splayed behind her like a halo before the photographer stood back and looked at Ali. 

“You wanna be in one with her?” he asked Ali. Ashlyn propped herself up on her elbows to watch Ali’s expression. Her girlfriend’s eyes flickered first to her and then to Jamie. 

“I don’t know,” she said. “Can I?” 

“Sure,” Jamie said with a shrug. “Grab a shirt. This is mostly fun, anyway. Ashlyn’s just going to Instagram some stuff. We may use a shot on the website…Something like that.” 

Ashlyn continued to watch as Ali changed in front of her, whistling at her playfully. Her attire matching Ashlyn’s, she walked over to the set-up and the photographer directed her to lay down sort of perpendicular to Ashlyn. 

“You’re the perfect model,” he commented, as he positioned her left arm so that her tattoo could be read clearly. Both Ashlyn and Ali laughed at that. “Alright, now Ali — close your eyes. Ashlyn, imagine you two are together and you’re up late at night, thinking. Hold onto her wrist, there. Good. Like that.” 

There were a couple flashes and snaps as he took the shots. 

“Nice,” Jamie said as he looked them over. “It looks strangely…really intimate.” 

“Ashlyn…you look so beautiful,” Ali commented once she’d seen it. Ashlyn pressed a kiss to the top of Ali’s head.

“You too, babe,” she said. Looking at the photograph, she couldn’t wait to share it with the world. There was so much love written in the background of what should have been a relatively unassuming pose — the way it looked like Ali was sleeping, the way they were connected with the touch of Ali’s hand to Ashlyn’s wrist, the way they fit together. It really was beautiful. 

They took a couple more, just for fun — some just with Ali, cheesing it up for the camera. With her laying there on her back, Ashlyn scooted over out of the view of the camera and laid down parallel to Ali, who was rocking the positioning the photographer had put her in. They wanted a real smile out of her so, laying there next to her, Ashlyn whispered, “I love you, Alex.” Ali beamed, and there was a flash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know if you liked it. We're on the home stretch. There's just three more chapters left to go!
> 
> Next time: Ali's greatest interest becomes a relevant thing (think a certain rock) and the lead-up to the 2015 world cup.


	18. Jetty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deb has an agenda. Ali has to go and scare everyone with a bad injury. Some good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight I'm leaving for school so let's get this thing finished. Only a bit more to go! Thanks for your thoughtful comments on the past few chapters!

Ali started planning their hypothetical wedding without even being proposed to. The first time she did it, it was so out of the blue that Ashlyn nearly choked on her post-training protein shake. 

“Did you see the flowers Alex chose?” she had commented. “I wish we could do the same thing, but we can’t copy unfortunately. I’m thinking, maybe something in the same sort of color scheme though.” 

“What?” Ashlyn had responded, wiping liquid from her chin and trying to close her mouth. But Ali had only responded with a broad, teasing grin, and reminded Ashlyn that Virginia had legalized same-sex marriage a couple days before. Ashlyn had grinned in return. That was one of their homes down, and it seemed the new legislation spurned Ali on into really believing that they could have that happy ending, too. 

She was more prepared for the next time Ali surprised her with hypothetical wedding plans. And the time after, she decided that they would turn all of this into a game. 

“We’re getting married on a beach of course,” Ashlyn would say. And Ali would agree because Ashlyn had few other hard stipulations and who wouldn’t want a nice beach wedding. 

“At sunset,” Ali would add. “We can take the pictures by the water with the sun just setting.”

They hid the game from everyone else — all of their teammates, friends, and family — as best they could so that nobody would get the wrong idea. Ashlyn had only just let her eyes wander over the many different cuts and settings of engagement rings. There was no serious shopping going on and she didn’t think there would be for some time. Even with how careful they were, however, Whitney ended up hearing and so did Pinoe and, once Pinoe knew, the whole team was cooing over how cute their game was. 

“She’s just begging for you to pop the question,” Abby teased. “Those are mad signals right there.” 

“Ooh what color scheme have you picked out, Ali?” Syd asked excitedly. They actually did proceed into an intense discussion of wedding colors — what worked and what didn’t; what was cliche and what was a classy sort of traditional. Ashlyn rolled her eyes at it all, but secretly loved it. The game wasn’t just theirs anymore, but it all made her future with Ali seem even more concrete and real. 

As Alex’s wedding rang in the new year, the expression of love and the copious amounts of alcohol they’d both consumed only added to Ali’s apparent wedding fever. 

“That was so beautiful,” she breathed against Ashlyn’s lips as they fell all over each other back in their hotel room. “The ceremony was so touching.” 

“It was,” Ashlyn agreed, distracted. She was busy trying to pull that dress off of Ali — the one that had distracted her all night with how the back was cut out. She finally found the zip and pulled, letting the thin straps drop off of Ali’s shoulders and the fabric pool at her feet. 

 

After the celebrations, however, it was time to buckle down and train more than ever. 2015 meant that they had mere months to prepare for the World Cup. For Ali, that meant ensuring her fitness was on a whole other level from the rest of the world. For Ashlyn, it meant playing consistently enough and staying healthy enough to firmly lock down her number two spot on the depth chart. Keeping herself healthy would be the real challenge as she was already busting her ass to get back into good form after shattering her thumb. 

“What?” Ashlyn said. She knew her mouth was hanging open, so she tried to close it. The shock of what she was being told was a bit much, though. She hardly knew if she was imagining it all.

“You’ll be starting in the match and honestly, you should plan on starting all of them. Just, mentally, prepare for that.” 

Ashlyn wondered if she even dared to ask. 

“What does that mean for the depth chart?”

Graeme shrugged a little. “You’re looking like a good candidate for second,” he replied. “But there’s still a lot of time between now and the World Cup, so if I see you get even the slightest bit complacent, there are plenty of other options to take your spot.” 

“Yes, of course,” Ashlyn replied seriously. “If anything, I’m even more hungry now.” 

Graeme clapped her on the shoulder hard. “That’s what I like to hear, Harris,” he said, and sent her on her way. 

 

The game against France didn’t end how she’d wanted it to. It didn’t start how any of them wanted it to, and they all exited the field in a state of bewilderment almost at how horribly they’d all played. The forwards were all annoyed at their attacks being shut down and denied, but Ashlyn was mostly angry with herself for letting in that first ball especially. The game against England was better, but not by much. Nobody played especially well. Ashlyn still got scored on, though the strike didn’t count. The USWNT was looking off their game at a dangerous time. 

“Ashlyn, don’t,” Ali said as she walked into their bedroom. “Don’t, don’t watch that, please.” She didn’t wait for Ashlyn to move, instead flipping down Ashlyn’s laptop so that she couldn’t keep watching the stream of their game against France. Ashlyn stared at the place where the game used to be. 

It looked different on the screen than it did while she was in the net, but she had a hard time discerning which was more horrible — living through that game, or listening to the commentators rip her to shreds. Each comment was like another wall of water slapping her from every side, and she had nothing to hit back with. She knew Ali had placed a hand on her shoulder but could hardly feel her touch. 

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“I wanted to know how badly everyone else thought I’d fucked up,” Ashlyn replied hoarsely. “Turns out, it’s quite a lot.” She shook her head, running a hand over the still-warm top of her Macbook. 

“That’s not the type of criticism you should be exposing yourself to, Ashlyn,” Ali admonished. “Those commentators are not your coaches; they don’t know jack shit. They’re unfairly tearing into you when, you know who they should be ripping to shreds instead? The entire rest of the team. We all played like shit. You did fine.” 

“Sometimes it makes you wonder, though. You know…Whether things would’ve been different for me if I hadn’t been injured.” 

Ali swallowed. A beat. “You can’t think like that, Ash.” 

“I know it’s not good for me, but my brain can’t stop. It just keeps going and going and - ”

“Ashlyn.” Ali moved the laptop over to the side, climbing atop of Ashlyn so that she was straddling her legs. She cupped Ashlyn’s face in her hands, forcing Ashlyn to stare into her eyes. She tried to look away. She could see the glint of herself there, but didn’t want to. Ali wouldn’t let her. 

“Where is the strong woman I know?” Ashlyn watched as Ali’s eyes ran over her face, her thumbs swiping patterns on her cheeks. 

“She’s tired of always not being good enough.” She’s lost in the dark water. Ashlyn felt Ali sag back, resting her weight more fully on Ashlyn’s legs. 

“You are always enough, Ashlyn,” Ali said seriously, her voice low and insistent. “You are wonderfully loved by everyone around you. You are kind and compassionate. You’re a deep thinker. You’re a loyal friend. A patient and careful lover. You are a good keeper and an even better person. You are more than good enough.” 

Done with her tirade, Ali stared at Ashlyn intently, waiting for something. Ashlyn let out a shaky breath, the tightening in her jaw letting her know that she was near tears. She let out another breath, trying to calm herself. Eyes unfocused in her efforts, she only felt Ali brush wetness from under her eyes. She leaned in then, and kissed her gently. 

“You will take these challenges and you’ll use them to grow more and become even stronger. I know, because you are so resilient and you never give up and I will be there to support you every step of the way.” 

“Thank you, Alex,” Ashlyn whispered to her, pulling her into her body for a tight hug. 

Ali ran her hands down Ashlyn’s face to her neck, trailing them across the planes of her shoulders, tracing her sides. They both watched the descent until Ali looked up and tilted her head to press a hard kiss to Ashlyn’s mouth. It was like a kiss of life; that magical touch that pushed new air into her lungs and drew it back out. Her own hands moved to rest on Ali’s waist, trailing down to play with the edge of her t-shirt. 

Ali was her wall. She was her life raft. She was there when there was nothing else, ready and willing to stand by her side and save her. Ashlyn was going to let her. As Ashlyn pushed Ali’s shirt up and ran her hands along the bare skin of her sides, Ali gasped into her mouth. They separated to pull off shirts and fell into each other again, a constant push and pull until they were tangled together so close they were hardly two bodies at all. 

“I love you so much,” Ali murmured against her, voice breathy with her desire. Ashlyn arched up into her touch, head back, lost somewhere between that room and another state altogether. 

 

Ashlyn could tell that Ali was missing her family as the year continued on and they grew busier and busier, so she decided to surprise her girl with a couple tickets to Miami. They’d use what short break they had in between camps and other training to visit Deb Deb and hopefully get some much-needed relaxation time in. 

“Are you serious?” Ali had interrogated when Ashlyn first brought up the fact that she’d booked the tickets. A grin spreading across her face, Ashlyn had nodded slowly. Ali had squealed — like Ashlyn knew she would — and launched herself into Ashlyn’s arms, peppering her face with kisses and whispering thank-you’s into her ear. 

“Ooh, it’s so good to see you two,” Debbie greeted them as they walked into her Miami condo. She wrapped first Ali into a crushing hug and then Ashlyn. “Thank you for bringing her here,” she added into Ashlyn’s ear. 

“Of course, Deb Deb,” Ashlyn replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

Family time was rare and precious, so they spent most of that first night simply catching up. They ordered take-out and talked about what they’d been doing and Ali and her mom shared their new finds in regards to beauty products and purses. 

“So…” Debbie started as they crowded around the coffee table in the living room with glasses of wine and containers of Chinese food. Ashlyn and Ali had decided upon sitting on the floor, legs brushing, backs propped up against the couch. Debbie sat herself in the armchair by the wide-paned windows. She looked at them over the top of her glass like she was a cat looking at a caught mouse. 

“It’s been a couple years now.” 

Ashlyn raised an eyebrow in Ali’s direction, but contemplated it over another sip of wine. Ali shrugged. 

“Four…Working on five now,” Ali said before Ashlyn could answer. 

“So even longer than I was going to give you.” She didn’t mention it, but Ashlyn knew she’d been trying to work around what Ali and her liked to refer to as their ‘silly little relationship hiatus’ now that the wounds were fully closed, the scar only around to remind them what had pulled them apart before. “Ever think about moving past just dating?” 

Ashlyn choked on her wine and, as she sputtered and Ali whacked her back gently, she only hoped it wouldn’t come out her nose. Ali rubbed circles on her back as Ashlyn’s spell ended. She looked over at Ali to gauge her expression. 

“We’ve thought about it,” Ali said. Instead of moving her hand away, she let her arm drape across the couch, warm against Ashlyn’s back. “And we’ve talked about it. I don’t think you or I will be buying dresses any time soon, though.” 

Debbie looked scandalized. “You don’t want to marry my daughter, Ashlyn?” 

“What? No, of course I do,” Ashlyn replied earnestly. Beside her, Ali giggled a little behind her hand. Ashlyn met her eyes for only a second, but she could see that Ali’s were shining with happiness. In their darkness, her reflection was beaming as well. Ashlyn’s heart clenched. She knew she could never express just how much she wanted to marry Ali. “Neither of us are really ready for it to happen right now, though. There’s the World Cup…and then the Olympics.” 

“It’s the wrong time in the cycle,” Ali agreed. “Things will calm down after the Olympics and maybe we’ll do it then.” 

“Better hurry up,” Debbie said, taking a sip of wine. “I want grandbabies and Alex, I love your brother dearly, but he certainly hasn’t made any progress on that front.” 

Ashlyn was glad she hadn’t taken another drink from her glass before that statement or she surely would’ve coughed up everything on the cream carpet. Ali was quiet beside her, face flushed bright red in a way Ashlyn knew was not caused by the alcohol. 

 

Even with their little break, the stress of constantly moving around was getting to Ali enough that it was quite clear to Ashlyn. Neither of them especially liked the nomadic sort of life they had to live in order to play their sport but, as they hopped on another plane or slumped into the seats of another team bus, Ashlyn would always reach over to squeeze Ali’s hand or pat her thigh and remind her that at least they were doing this together. 

Still, for much of the year they had one thing hitting them after another — camps, training with Chris back in DC, pre season training with the Spirit. Whenever they weren’t playing soccer, they were doing interviews and other promotional gigs to get ready for the World Cup. And, on top of that, the NWSL season started. 

They’d both suffered injuries on the field in front of one another before. Ashlyn had gotten a concussion the previous season. Ali had gotten knocked around before. They’d even had to deal with little scuffles on behalf of each other. This was different, though. Ali was out. Ashlyn’s heart stopped. 

She was tracking the ball but, after it had been cleared relatively well, her eyes fell to Ali, who was just laying there on the field where she had fallen. Ashlyn felt her stomach churn as she walked towards Ali, trying to keep her face impassive. The whistle had already blown; the trainer had already come out and he was trying to turn Ali over. 

“Hey, how’s she looking?” Carli asked as she walked over to check on Ali as well. She was soon joined by Ella Masar. 

“She’s gotta be alright,” Ashlyn said in reply, more to convince herself than anything. Her job on the field was to protect the goal, but she couldn’t even protect one of her defenders. She couldn’t even protect her girlfriend. She felt so lost and powerless and she knew the only person who could make her feel better was laying in a daze on the field. From behind her, she heard Ali’s voice faintly and turned to kneel by her side. 

Ali was staring up above her with eyes that obviously weren’t seeing much. She looked dazed and out of it, like she was higher than a kite. Ashlyn knew how dangerous this was, though. Ali had had concussions before. Ashlyn had had a couple herself. She placed a hand on Ali’s and waited with her as the trainer asked her a series of questions. 

“What’s your name? Do you remember where you are? What team are you playing for?” 

Ali was mostly non-responsive, which made Ashlyn more nervous. Even concussed, those questions should have been simple enough.

“Where’s Ashlyn?” she got out. Ashlyn rubbed her gloved hand along Ali’s arm. 

“I’m here, baby,” she murmured to her. Ali’s eyes couldn’t focus on her and Ashlyn felt her heart sink.

As they pulled out the stretcher, Ashlyn was told to move, but she didn’t go very far, hovering constantly from one side to the other, trying to just keep Ali talking a little, looking for a bit of lucidity. It was not her favorite thing, helping the trainers and staff strap Ali to the backboard, a brace wrapped around her neck, and lift her onto the gurney. They had her move her feet for everyone — luckily, she could do it fine. 

She rested her hand on Ali’s side, then on her leg, her arm; she gripped her hand — anything to let Ali know that she was still with her as it seemed she drifted in and out of remembering exactly what was going on. 

“Ash?” she asked again. “Baby.” 

“Hey, you’re doing okay,” Ashlyn replied, patting her hand. She wished she could feel Ali’s skin under hers, but she still had her gloves on. 

“Ash, where are we going?” 

“You’re going to go to the hospital, okay, baby?” 

“And you’re coming too, right?” 

Ashlyn’s jaw tensed. She wished she could go with Ali right then and there. She needed to make sure that she was alright, but there was still a game to play. What would that look like, for the starting goalkeeper to run off with the right back before the first half was even over? 

“I can’t, Princess,” she said. “I’ve got to finish this game.” 

“Ashlyn, I don’t want to go without you.” Ashlyn frowned, wanting to kiss her so badly. She settled for squeezing Ali’s hand. 

“I have to let you go now, Alex, but I will come find you after the game,” Ashlyn promised. “I have to go.” Ali gripped at her hand. “Hey, Pierre over there will hold your hand in place of me,” she suggested. “Now wave to everyone so they know you’re okay.” 

There was a knot in Ashlyn’s stomach as she walked back to her box, her head clouded with thoughts of Ali. She hadn’t seen a concussion that bad in person. Ali had been severely out of it. That was the type of concussion that could cause long-lasting problems. That was the kind of concussion that could end a career or make day-to-day life difficult for Ali. Ashlyn let out a breath and tried to pull herself back into the moment as the whistle blew to continue play, but it was hopeless. All she wanted was for the seconds to tick up faster so that she could get to Ali. 

After the final whistle blew, announcing the Spirit’s defeat, Ashlyn was out of there without a second glance. In the locker room, she changed quickly, clenching her phone in between her cheek and shoulder as she explained what happened first to Ken, who was calmly concerned and made an effort to help Ashlyn center herself as well, and then to Debbie, who was very loudly and frantically worried about her baby girl. Kyle asked if he needed to fly in. Mark breezed through the empty locker room to direct Ashlyn to a cab that would take her to the hospital. 

 

Ali’s prognosis was good. She’d suffered a severe concussion, but her symptoms were already starting to alleviate. There would be a long road of recovery ahead, but she was not in danger of any lasting effects. Hearing the doctor’s thoughts, Ashlyn physically slumped against the side of Ali’s hospital bed. Ali’s hand was on her shoulder in a second. She was telling her not to worry in a quiet voice. 

Jill called the next morning as Ali and Ashlyn were just rousing themselves from sleep. Ashlyn had refused to leave Ali there by herself so, while the trainers left to return to the hotel with the rest of the players, Ashlyn camped out in the entirely-too-square armchair beside the hotel bed. She awoke with a crick in her neck, but it was all worth it to be able to make sure Ali was doing alright. 

Ashlyn answered as Ali was putting on her mascara — a surer sign that she was going to be alright than anything else. 

“Hello?” 

“Ashlyn, hello,” came Jill’s voice, her accent soft and barely discernible. “How are you? And how is Ali doing? I just wanted to check in.” 

“Oh, thank you,” Ashlyn replied. “The doctors said to expect a couple weeks’ recovery time but that Ali should be back to normal soon enough. And she’s a trooper, so I expect nothing less.” She saw Ali grinning a little out of the corner of her eye. 

“Good, good,” Jill said. “I was hoping that was the case, otherwise I might have to rethink the final roster.” Ashlyn swallowed thickly. The World Cup roster.

“So…are you saying…” 

“I’ll release everything publicly in the next couple days, but you may tell Ali congratulations,” Jill said. Ashlyn let out a breath and looked at Ali. Her girl had made it. She expected nothing less, but she was flooded with pride and love for her all the same. “Congratulations for the both of you.” 

“Excuse me?” Ashlyn said, feeling the jolt of surprise almost physically. 

“I decided I probably shouldn’t leave you hanging in limbo like that,” Jill said lightly. “So congratulations to you both. Keep Ali safe and healthy and I’ll see the two of you next camp.” 

“Thank you, Coach,” Ashlyn managed to choke out as her chest constricted around her pounding heart. She hung up the phone and turned to Ali, who was just putting all her makeup back in her bag. 

“Was that Mark? What’d he say?” 

“Actually, that was Jill,” Ashlyn replied. She shook her head, unable to stop herself from grinning widely. “She asked about how you were doing and then said that we’ve both…” She took another deep breath, nearly laughing at Ali’s bewildered expression. “Ali, we’ve both made the World Cup roster!” 

 

Back in their apartment, even a couple weeks after the incident in Houston, the lights were dimmed. The blinds were often drawn. Ashlyn learned not to turn the TV on too loud or make too much noise in the kitchen. She also learned to get up with Ali every less-than-restful night she had. Ali was often grumpy, her energy fluctuated like the tides, and she was frustrated with herself for not getting better as quickly as she wanted. The release of the World Cup roster only made Ali want to get back on the field more, and she wasn't even allowed to jog. 

“Hey, babe?” Ashlyn called softly as she entered the apartment. She shifted the bags she was holding behind her. Just come back from the grocery store, she had quite a bit to bring in. 

“Hey,” Ali croaked in return from the living room. Ashlyn stopped by the kitchen to set down a couple things before heading in there, only to find Ali sitting on the couch with her hands pressing into her eyes, her glasses sitting over them, askew. Beside her was an abandoned packet of papers. 

“Oh, hun,” Ashlyn admonished. She could tell Ali was still in pain. 

“I printed out the training material Dawn and Jill sent over — and I promise I didn’t spend any more time on the computer.” Ashlyn rolled her eyes. “I was trying to read it but my eyes keep getting all fuzzy and it’s so annoying.” 

Ashlyn went over to kneel in front of Ali, prying one hand away from her head gently. Ali pulled the other one down by herself, allowing her glasses to perch on her nose again. She smiled at Ashlyn sheepishly and Ashlyn leaned in to kiss her nose. 

“Well then maybe this will cheer you up,” Ashlyn said. She pulled the little bouquet of spring flowers she’d picked up at the farmers’ market by the Foggy Bottom metro stop and presented them to Ali. Her face immediately lit up and she took the flowers in her hands, running her fingers along the petals of a sunflower and smelling a couple others. 

“Do you like them?” Ashlyn asked, already knowing the answer. 

“They’re beautiful,” Ali replied. She leaned in to peck Ashlyn’s lips. “I should go put them in a vase.” 

“You just sit,” Ashlyn told her. “I’ll do it, and I can do you one better, too. Do you want an Ibuprofen and some water?” 

Ali let out a sigh of happiness and collapsed dramatically against the back of the couch as Ashlyn took back the flowers. “You are the greatest, Ash,” she said in earnest. 

 

Ali recovered fully from her concussion in time to play in the Mother’s Day game against Ireland. The coaches had put together a wonderful surprise for everyone — as none of the players had much of a chance to see their families ever — and brought in everyone’s moms to watch the game. Ali had let out a cry of joy upon seeing Debbie and a wide smile spread across Ashlyn’s face as well as she saw her mother walk in the door along with the rest of them. 

In the beginning of the game, they all walked out with their mothers, officially announced as the 2015 Women’s World Cup team. As Ashlyn stood there, hand brushing against her mom’s, she felt that this was one of her proudest moments. She couldn’t stop smiling. Soon, she would be accomplishing one of her greatest dreams — to be a part of a senior World Cup team — and her mother was happily smiling away beside her, ready to support her through it all. 

“Guess what my mom asked about again,” Ali said one night. 

“What?”

Ali gave her an incredulous look, like how could you not possibly know, but told Ashlyn anyway. “She keeps pestering me about having babies.” 

Babies. Ashlyn wondered if Ali could sense her first impulse, shock, before her wonder and excitement for the future took over. She’d always loved children and dreamed of having her own, but never so much as when she thought about having children with Ali. She could almost picture them — little spitting images of her favorite girl. 

“I was like ‘Deb, I have to play in this little thing called the World Cup…Can’t exactly do that pregnant’ and she just had that smile — you know the one.” Ashlyn shook her head, laughing a little. 

“And then there was your mother.” Ashlyn perked up at that, honestly a bit worried about what her mom could possibly have said to Ali. “I think she and Deb are conspiring together cuz she was talking about wanting grandkids, too.” 

“Hey, they’re just working to get what they want,” Ashlyn allowed. Ali was quiet and Ashlyn could feel the tone of the conversation begin to shift. 

“I really do want kids,” Ali said seriously. “Maybe not right now because of soccer, but I do want to make a family in the future…” She trailed off and Ashlyn waited with bated breath for the end of that sentence that clearly hung there, suspended, in between them. “With you.”

Ashlyn reached out to take Ali’s hands in hers. “I would love, love, love to have a family with you, Alex,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about it for an embarrassingly long time, actually. But I want to do it whenever you’re ready. It’s a big decision.” 

“So we’re gonna have to tell our moms to wait,” Ali assessed, staring off into the distance. Something came to Ashlyn then and she looked at Ali, hoping she was in a good enough mood to even consider it. 

“Maybe we can get a dog in the meantime,” Ashlyn suggested hopefully. “It’d be like a four-legged grandbaby for them!” Ali’s face transformed into a picture of shock and horror. 

“You are trying to guilt me into getting that French Bulldog you want while I’m getting all hormonal over here thinking about babies,” Ali accused. Laughing a little, Ashlyn pulled Ali into her side, pressing kisses to the top of her head. 

“Aw, babe,” she said. “I just mean it might be good training for everyone.” 

“It would be unfair to the puppy and you know it,” Ali returned. 

“But maybe when we settle down a little more?” Ashlyn prodded. She knew she was pushing it.

“Maybe,” Ali agreed, snuggling further into Ashlyn. “It’d be nice to raise the kids with a dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read, as always. Only two more to go!!!! 
> 
> Next time: The World Cup
> 
> (Also, can we get this story to 100 comments??)


	19. Surge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The World Cup is here. So are a couple revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry guys! Life got in the way again, but here is the chapter. 
> 
> Oh, someone mentioned wanting to see Ali and Ash's reaction to the legalization of gay marriage. The whole fic was pre-written before I posted anything and though I definitely would have written that in, again life is super busy. That's not in this chapter, but if I get some free time I'd love to do a one-shot companion piece :)

Women’s soccer in the US was a relatively short history, but a great and decorated one. Home to many of the “greats”, the USWNT had seen the rise and fall of many players that would be talked about for decades to come — the revolutionary few, the frontrunners, those who set the records, and those who broke them. Mia Hamm. Brandi Chastain. Michelle Akers. Christie Rampone. Abby Wambach. Hope Solo. 

These were players who would go down in the history books for their goals, their saves, the World Cups they’d won, the gold medals they had. It was an honor to be mentioned in the same sentence as them. It would be an even greater honor to be lauded just as highly as them. 

“Can you believe this, Ash?” Whit asked, her voice quiet. They were laying in their respective beds. Ashlyn was staring at the ceiling through the darkness and she suspected that Whitney was doing the same. It was nice, familiar. They hadn’t had a midnight roommate chat in such a long time. “We’re at the World Cup.” 

“Together,” Ashlyn added. She let out a sigh and shifted under the covers, wrapping herself up more fully and allowing herself to sink further into the pillows. 

The two of them had been on the wild ride of ups and downs, being called into camp and being left off of the roster, wheedling their way into the senior National Team the difficult, circuitous route. Thinking back further, Ashlyn couldn’t help but smile as she reflected on their days together at UNC. Whitney was always the ever-present, positive, responsible friend. Ashlyn was the rebel who made her come out of her shell. They had had their share of ups and down then, too — mostly because of Ashlyn. Still, they always pulled together in the end. 

Together, they had conquered the world of college. Now, they would tackle the Women’s World Cup. 

Ashlyn flipped back through the pages of her journal with mild amusement and maybe a little embarrassment on behalf of her younger self. 

_I’m going to try to get more playing time. ___

___Did well in training today. Should be rewarded with some time. ____ _

_____I don’t understand why I couldn’t have started this game. Hope could’ve been knitting a sweater back there. Why does nobody trust me to do well? ____ _ _ _

______Ashlyn knew that she wouldn’t get a chance to play before she even hopped on that flight to Canada. It was no slight against herself, but merely an observation rooted in hard fact. There was no way Hope would be kept out of a game. She couldn’t change the fact that Hope Solo had been born an American and had risen to become the best goalkeeper, maybe in the world. But Ashlyn also didn’t want to change that. She loved Hope, trusted her, and knew that, with Hope in between the posts, their team would have a great shot at winning._ _ _ _ _ _

______Jill gathered everyone together for a team meeting once they’d landed. They were all still in their travel clothes — all sweatpants and sweatshirts. Moe’s hair was frizzy from her in-plane nap. Tobin was starting to kick off her shoes. Ali somehow looked amazingly good and her mascara wasn’t even a little smudged even though she’d fallen asleep on Ashlyn’s shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ladies, I just want to remind you that this World Cup will not be won easily,” Jill started. “It will be a hard fight no matter who we have to face to get to that final. No matter who we have to face in the final. But it will not be won solely by the starting XI, or the three subs. It will be won only with the hard work and dedication of all twenty-three players.” She looked around at all of them as individuals. Ashlyn shifted as Jill’s gaze fell to her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Each one of you has earned the right to be here. You have an important part in this journey and this fight, and I have complete trust in all of you that we will bring the trophy back with us.” There was a short pause as everyone took in her words before a cheer went up from all the players, led by Pinoe of course._ _ _ _ _ _

______Jill had inspired a lot of warm, fuzzy feelings between the teammates as well as a hunger for the big win, but there was still a whole heck of a lot of fear to be felt amongst all of them. Already, the press was spewing off stories pitching that this was the year in which the US would get their redemption. The tournament had hardly started at all. They’d come into the tournament with that great pressure on their shoulders to succeed this time, but that didn’t make it any easier to handle. And then the criticism started pouring in in waves._ _ _ _ _ _

______When one part of the team was criticized, the whole team felt it. Everyone was a bit on edge from the comments that flooded in from every which way. While the US’s defense was being lauded as the best in the women’s game, the offense was being torn apart. The fact was, the US forwards and midfielders weren’t connecting and they definitely weren’t scoring. Everything looked and felt a bit off. None of the attacking players felt very good about themselves._ _ _ _ _ _

______“We’ve just got to keep our heads down and make it through,” Abby insisted in her speeches. “Push through. We’ll find that rhythm.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______So they continued fighting hard for their wins; waiting on that click._ _ _ _ _ _

______For Ashlyn, things were less about the fight on the field and more about being the best teammate she could possibly be. The only spot she had locked down firmly was her butt on that bench, next to Whitney and Alyssa and HAO, so she was determined to be as supportive and helpful as she possibly could._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’ll be cheering for you,” Ashlyn promised Ali before each game, kissing the side of her head before she had to walk out with the rest of the subs. On the sideline, she held out water bottles for her teammates, but it was always Ali who gravitated towards her. They’d share a look and nothing more, but just seeing each other there served as a comfort to the both of them._ _ _ _ _ _

______A light knock sounded on the door to her room before it was pushed open. Most of the doors on the team’s floor were kept propped open and people came and went as they pleased. Ashlyn looked up from her phone to see Ali. She was wearing compression tights and a t-shirt and her glasses were perched on her nose. Ashlyn brightened as she came in and made herself comfortable on Ashlyn’s bed._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey, pretty,” Ashlyn said. “What’s up?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Just wanted to spend some time with you,” Ali replied. She rested her head on Ashlyn’s shoulder, draping her arm over her waist._ _ _ _ _ _

______“How was your recovery session?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Good. The pool stuff felt really good. I’m all achey and old.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You’re not,” Ashlyn promised, kissing the top of Ali’s head._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Have you been doing okay?” Ali propped herself up to look Ashlyn in the eyes. “I know we haven’t had a lot of time together. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m perfectly fine,” Ashlyn replied honestly. She was missing Ali a little — they trained at different times and with different groups and they hadn’t slept in the same room in weeks — but she was doing alright. “Don’t worry about me, babe. You have to think about bringing the heat against Germany.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Ali frowned a little. “You can still talk to me about anything you’re feeling, you know,” Ali said. “It’s not a distraction. If anything, I’ll get distracted worrying about whether you’re holding anything back from me.” Ashlyn moved to sit up against the headboard of the bed and beckoned for Ali to follow. She did, pressing her side against Ashlyn’s. “If you’re feeling down because of anything, we can talk about it.” Ashlyn knew what she was getting at._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Honestly, I didn’t come into this tournament thinking I’d get on the field at all,” she said honestly. “I think I’d accepted that since the roster was released.” Ali didn’t look too convinced. “I’ve got a lot of other goals I want to work towards.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“What do you mean?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I was thinking about what I want to leave behind, you know — a legacy of my career. Like, for example, you will be known for that amazing PK, your bravery for going to Germany to play…your bun.” Ali laughed a little against Ashlyn’s shoulder and she thought she could hear her mutter, “That damn bun!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“What do you want to be remembered for?” Ali asked._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Doing the best with what I’ve been given. Being a good person, a loyal friend and teammate. Making a real difference in the world and people’s lives. Maybe I won’t ever play in a World Cup game or an Olympics, but I’ve still got this opportunity — this platform — that I can use for good, you know? To get a message out there.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ashlyn, thats…really, really beautiful.” Ali rewarded her with a gentle kiss._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I guess what I didn’t realize when I was younger is that there’s no way I could control which direction my career would go. I can’t put myself in games. I can’t make coaches change their decisions. Sometimes even working my hardest still won’t ever be enough. But I can control what kind of person I am. I guess I’d like to be remembered for that.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Ashlyn watched the semifinal game against Germany from the sideline, but she hardly sat in her seat. Every one of them on the bench jumped up and sat back down with each turn of the game, each call. Then Germany had earned that free kick, and everyone held their breath. Somehow, they had made it out of that game on top and, as soon as the whistle blew, everyone was out on the field to celebrate their entry into the final match against Japan._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You did so good, baby,” Ashlyn said as she pulled Ali into a tight hug, hardly minding that Ali was soaked through with sweat. “You were owning that right side. Germany didn’t know what hit them.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Thanks, babe,” Ali replied. She was beaming. Ashlyn really was impressed; Ali had a great game. “Let’s go say hi to my old teammates?” Ali suggested and Ashlyn followed her across the field to greet Nadine and Dzsenifer._ _ _ _ _ _

______“It’s this field again,” Ali murmured to Ashlyn in the locker room before the final game. Ashlyn had already finished dressing out and was hanging around Ali’s locker instead. She was sitting in her chair, her boots on but laces untied. A couple lockers down, Alex was curled in on herself, headphones on and eyes tightly shut. Everywhere, their teammates were practicing their pregame rituals with a new intensity that hadn’t been seen throughout the rest of the tournament. In the background, the top 40 pop that was being blasted through the speakers was drowned out by the thoughts in everyone’s heads._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Don’t be afraid of it,” Ashlyn replied. She knelt down in front of Ali and rubbed her hands down her thighs. “It’s just a field, like any other field. You’re going to go out there and kick ass, just like you always have. And you’re going to be amazing.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Ashlyn let her hands drift down to Ali’s right knee. Her white socks were already pulled up past the knee, but Ashlyn pulled it down gently, almost reverently, to reveal the faint white scar that ran down the middle. She traced the line with her thumb before leaning down to press a kiss to it. Ali gasped and when she looked up at her, her lip was wobbling slightly._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey, you’re going to do so good, baby,” Ashlyn promised her. She pulled Ali’s sock back up and patted her leg again. Ali reached out to clasp her hand around the back of Ashlyn’s neck and bring her closer to her. She pressed a kiss to Ashlyn’s lips that lingered long after their lips parted. Eyes shut lightly, they breathed in each others’ breath. Ashlyn’s heart thumped. Normally they were never near that affectionate in the locker room, each of them preferring to get themselves focused before the game. But this day was different. Ali needed this._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Thank you,” Ali whispered against her lips._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Alright, you need to get your head on right, missy,” Ashlyn said with a slight grin. She pulled away, but their fingers found themselves entwined. “I’ll be cheering for you, remember.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Ashlyn waited with bated breaths, toeing the white line as she waited for the seconds to tick up. On either side of her, Whitney, HAO, Alyssa, Lori, Syd, and the coaches were all doing the same thing. On the field in front of them, the US players were just trying to hold things down and keep their focus. The seconds ticked up and up._ _ _ _ _ _

______And then finally, like trumpeting from heaven above, the final whistle rang out through the air and the screams grew louder and louder — chants of USA! USA! USA! over and over again. Ashlyn didn’t know where she was running to, but her feet would not stop. She yelled and pumped her fists in the air and crashed hard into her teammates as they formed a great group hug._ _ _ _ _ _

______Laughing and yelling and clapping her hands to her teammates’ backs, Ashlyn turned and spotted Ali with Syd, wiping at her eyes. Her celebration was quiet, but all Ashlyn wanted to do was run around and scream. She pulled the both of them into a tight hug before going off to hug Graeme and the rest of their teammates and coaches._ _ _ _ _ _

______The celebration afterwards was a whirlwind and she seemed to run circles around the field without actually doing a victory lap. The flags came out and waved from teammates’ hands and teammates’ backs and Ashlyn’s heart was filled with so much love and so much pride. In the midst of the crowd, she turned and saw Ali in front of her._ _ _ _ _ _

______Lord, she looked beautiful like that, tired and sweaty from all the work she’d put in, but beaming from ear to ear. Tears still clung to the edges of her lashes. Ashlyn rushed to her, overwhelmed by the pride in her girl that was rushing over her. She reached out to cup Ali’s cheeks with her hands and felt Ali’s run up her chest, a familiar warmth._ _ _ _ _ _

______And that’s where they stopped. All Ashlyn wanted to do was kiss her, but they were in the middle of a crowd of over 50,000 people. Cameras circled like vultures. Ashlyn found she could hardly even say anything. She was too overwhelmed._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ashlyn, I love you,” Ali mouthed at her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I love you, too,” she returned._ _ _ _ _ _

______There was no joy like it. There was no feeling that could compare. They’d done it. They’d really done it, and Ashlyn had done it with some of the people she loved most. They all raised the trophy with a cry and danced to the tinny music piped in through the speakers, barely audible over the screaming crowd._ _ _ _ _ _

______The trophy was a good, hefty weight. It was the kind of weight that made everything seem that much more real. She held onto it tightly as she and Ali walked around the field together, occasionally bumping shoulders together._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m so proud of you,” Ashlyn said to her. “Look what great memories you have of this field now.”_ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read, as always. Next one's the last one!!! Who's excited?!?
> 
> Next time: Post World Cup stuff. Fluff. AND (most importantly) my take on Ash's "That must be nice" from the Spirit's quick-fire Q and A.


	20. Shoreline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the world cup. A change of clubs. Looking forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I'm still crying about HAO. So here's the last chapter of this thing. And yeah, it could probably go on but I wrote this forever ago - like November maybe - so I decided I didn't want to add on more since it was already finished (ex. the olympics). 
> 
> Thanks for coming along with me on this journey! I hope you like the end.

Returning to the states was not in the least bit the restful vacation that everyone wanted. First, there was the rally in LA. Half the team still had hangovers. Pinoe was still quite drunk. Then there was the ticker tape parade in New York — something that a women’s team had never had before. By that point, Pinoe had sobered up somewhat, but after the ticker tape parade was over, they’d all gotten drunk again. 

They lived out of suitcases and hotels, but instead of moving from city to city to play soccer, they were lugging around bags of nice dresses and suits. This time, their sacrifice was being rewarded with parties and red carpets and celebrities. 

“Heidi Klum!” Ashlyn exclaimed again as she and Ali shut the door to their hotel room. She knew she had been talking about meeting Heidi Klum all night (and Taylor Swift was pretty cool too, she supposed), but she couldn’t find the will to shut up about her. That woman was something else. 

“She’s something else,” Ashlyn commented as she took off her hat and placed it on top of her bag. “She’s absolutely gorgeous.” 

“Well why don’t you marry her,” Ali shot back snidely. Ashlyn cringed a little. Behind her, Ali was kicking off her shoes, running a hand through her hair. 

“Aw, babe,” Ashlyn said, trying to appease her. “You’re obviously much more gorgeous than she is.” Ali stuck her lip out, continuing to pout. Ashlyn pulled her close by her hips and pressed a kiss to her extended bottom lip. “You’re a hundred times the woman she is.” 

Ali sighed. “If you’re sure,” she said in return, drawing out the last word teasingly. “But mention her again tonight and you’re sleeping on the floor.” 

“Yes, my queen,” Ashlyn replied, a wide grin spreading on her face. 

“Alright,” Ali said with a quick peck on Ashlyn’s lips. “I’m going to get ready for bed.” She headed towards the bathroom. 

“Wait!” Ashlyn called out before she closed the door. Ali stuck her head back out. “You can’t wash your hand. Taylor Swift touched it.” 

Ali rolled her eyes. “You know I love her, and you know I was rocking out to her tonight, and you know I nearly died when she grabbed my hand, but you have got to stop channeling Kyle.” Ali shook her head and turned to go back into the bathroom. “I swear,” she muttered. “The two of you are too much.” 

 

Ashlyn had started off strong. Their celebration party had been absolutely rocking. She danced with Ali and Alex and Syd and even got the chance to be the DJ for the night which Ali, who was tipsy on champagne, laughed about extensively. As event after event added up, though, it all started to wear on her a little. Ashlyn went from partying harder than everyone except Pinoe and Kling to simply existing in whatever suit she’d picked out. 

And she had to go to a lot of events. Well, technically she wasn’t obligated to attend any of them, but Ali wanted her to be there as her date, and how was she supposed to pass that opportunity up. 

“If you don’t, I’m sure I can find another date there,” Ali threatened teasingly before she was due to appear at the Kid’s Choice Sports Awards. Ashlyn had rolled her eyes in return. 

“What? A ten year old?” But she had put on her outfit and sunglasses to hide how her exhaustion was beginning to show. Ali wasn’t faring much better, but she had nothing to hide behind except for her well-trained press smile. 

“You okay?” Ali murmured to her as they lined up with Abby, Kelley, and Christie on yet another red carpet. Ashlyn kept her gaze on the hoard of cameras in front of them. 

“Fine,” she replied, equally as quietly. Ali faced front again and put on a smile, and the flashbulbs shone bright in Ashlyn’s eyes. She was glad to get inside the venue, away from the cameras, back where the sound of the crowd was a dull roar. She let out a deep breath and let herself slump a little. Ali’s hand found its way to her back, rubbing gently. 

“I know we’ve been doing this a lot, but just think. This is the last one, and then we’re back in DC — back to our own stuff and soccer, too.” Ali brushed her hand along the waistband of her pants and a shiver went up her spine. 

Ashlyn leaned in towards Ali to whisper in her ear. “I am looking forward to getting back to our own bed.” She loved watching the flush creep up Ali’s neck. 

“Well, I promise we’ll have a lot of fun when that happens,” she whispered in return. “Just a couple more days.” 

 

Ali never could fall asleep easily in hotel rooms. Ashlyn had previously made fun of her for it, but now it was mostly just an inconvenience for the both of them. Even with their busy schedules, all the moving around caused Ashlyn a lot of sleepless nights as well as, beside her, Ali tossed and turned for hours. 

“Finally home,” Ali exclaimed with a deep groan as she flopped down on the bed she shared with Ashlyn. “Finally we have our bed back!” Ashlyn chuckled, watching as she spread her arms out over the covers, her eyes shut with bliss. She looked down towards the end of the bed at Ashlyn. “Come here,” she said. 

Ashlyn gladly did as she was told, lowering down on her side of the bed, sighing at the feeling of the cool duvet on her skin. Sometimes, a bed was just a bed, but it was always nice to be back home with their own things. It was comforting. She reached out a hand to lace her fingers with Ali’s and felt herself begin to really relax. 

“It’s good to be back,” Ashlyn said. 

“So nice,” Ali agreed. She rolled on her side to get closer to Ashlyn. Face to face, Ali leaned forward to capture Ashlyn’s lips with hers. Ashlyn sighed against her, relishing in her warmth and her taste. They’d been on the go so much, moments of intimacy between just the two of them were few and far between. Ashlyn did realize just how much she had really missed Ali, despite the fact that they were together much of the time since the World Cup. 

Ashlyn’s heart beat faster as she shifted closer to Ali, reaching out to press their bodies together. Their entire lengths touched. Warmth spread through her body. She deepened the kiss, nudging Ali’s mouth open gently, running her hands down the plane’s of Ali’s back. Even after so long, kissing Ali made her head hazy and her stomach flutter. She hoped it would always be that way. 

Ali rolled onto her back and Ashlyn followed her motion, laying halfway on top of her. She let her kisses travel down the arch of Ali’s neck, grinning against her skin as Ali sighed. She could feel Ali shifting under her a little, but didn’t pay that much mind. She was too focused on pushing Ali’s shirt up so that she could trail kisses along her stomach. 

Ali let out a loud yawn before Ashlyn’s breath could even ghost her stomach and Ashlyn paused, looking up to see that Ali had grabbed a pillow to hold on to, burying her face half in it, eyes closed in what Ashlyn knew was not an expression of pleasure. 

“Am I boring you?” she teased a little. Ali shook her head, her movement cut off by the fluffy pillow her cheek was resting on. Ashlyn moved back up to press a kiss to Ali’s jaw.

“I’m actually so tired,” Ali said with another yawn. She opened her eyes infinitesimally. “Hey, you wanna just take a nice nap together? That would be heaven right now.” 

Ashlyn blinked back at her, propping herself up off of her body. “No,” she whined, sticking her bottom lip out. She still felt so warm inside and her hands itched to feel Ali’s skin again. Her entire body itched to feel hers. She shifted so that her thighs brushed together, but it only made things worse. 

“Al, don’t you wanna…you know…” Ashlyn wiggled her eyebrows at Ali. “I mean, we haven’t gotten a chance to in a while.” 

Ali blinked back at her in return. “Yeah…” Ashlyn perked up. “But I’m so tired. I kind of just want to sleep.” Ashlyn slumped again. 

“Ali,” she whined again. She leaned in close to Ali’s ear. “Don’t you want to feel me inside you?” 

“That sounds great, baby,” Ali hummed, “But some other time. Tomorrow.” She reached out to pull the edge of the duvet down further and stretched her legs out under it. Ashlyn watched as Ali literally curled up and tucked herself in. She let out a frustrated groan, but pulled back her side of the covers and grabbed her own pillow and arranged herself so that they could cuddle a little. 

“I cannot believe this,” she muttered. Glancing up, she noted that Ali was already out. 

 

For a little while, at least, they could slip back into their old routines, before they’d gone to Canada, before they’d won the World Cup, before the media had descended upon them and, with them, thousands of new fans who recognized them everywhere they went. 

It was nice, waking up with Ali by her side in a familiar place where they had all of their stuff. It was nice going out and taking a walk to their favorite brunch place or up to M Street for a day of shopping. It was nice to finally start playing again — to walk out just behind Ali and stand next to her as names and numbers were called out. It was especially nice because they both knew that it wouldn’t be like that for much longer. 

The offer from Orlando didn’t come as any surprise to Ashlyn. She hadn’t known who would be hired as the coach for that side, then only words on a paper when she’d first been contacted, but she and her agent both knew that she’d be contacted to play down there. She was the hometown girl, after all, and a desirable keeper.

“And you’re sure they’re putting this team together?” Ashlyn paced in circles in the kitchen as she heard the news for the first time. “Well, yeah, of course it’s exciting. Of course I’d like to play there.” She had glanced over to Ali, who was curled up on the couch on her MacBook looking as though she was trying hard not to listen in. “Um…I’ve gotta just sort out some things…But I’d like to play there.”   
“Hey, Alex?” she called softly as she hung up the phone. She padded into the living room and stood by the end of the couch. She and Ali were separated by that little square of a couch cushion. 

“What’s up?” Ali replied. She closed the top of her MacBook. 

“So my agent called,” Ashlyn started. “He was talking about those rumors we’ve heard — about the league expanding again.” She paused. Ali blinked at her. “They’re really going for it, he thinks. Like, it’s pretty much set it’s going to happen.” 

“Well, that’s great,” Ali replied. “It’ll be nice to have a tenth team.” Ashlyn sighed. 

“Yeah, but, Alex,” she said, “It’s the Orlando team.” Ali blinked at her again. “And…well, he was asking me if I’d like to play there…And I said yes?” 

“Okay,” Ali replied after a beat. Ashlyn drew back a bit. 

“Okay?” she asked. “Is that it?” Ali looked at her with confusion. 

“What else do you want me to say? Do you want me to fight you to stay here?” Ashlyn bit the inside of her cheek. 

“Well, no,” she replied, imagining just how divisive such a fight would be. 

“Good,” Ali replied. She stood and placed her laptop on the coffee table, reaching out for Ashlyn. “We’ve talked about this possibility before,” she reminded Ashlyn as she wrapped her arms around her neck, pulling her close. “And I know you want to play near home. Anyone would want to. And I don’t want to take that away from you, especially since I’ve been lucky enough to have that for the past three years.” 

Playing at home was the ultimate dream for an athlete who had to travel constantly, wasn’t it? Ashlyn hadn’t truly lived in Florida, though she still considered it Home, since 2012. She was a wanderer passing through, most of the time. She flew in one day and surfed and said hello to everyone and then flew out again. Florida had been a layover stop for so long that she found herself missing it intensely at times. But the opportunity to play at home also meant that she wouldn’t be with Ali, the person who always made her feel like she was home no matter where they were. This time, there would be no real way to get around that. And if she couldn’t have Ali, too, was it really worth it?

“Yeah, but I also don’t want to leave you,” Ashlyn said. She frowned. Ali did the same. 

“I don’t want you to either,” she agreed. “But you shouldn’t give up this opportunity. Take it. We’ll only be a short flight away, and we’ll see each other a lot.” She looked like she was reaching for more positives. “There’s no crazy time difference.” 

Ashlyn laughed a little. “Yeah, then I won’t have to do math to figure out when it’s an okay time to call you.” Ali laughed, too, reaching up to run her painted fingers through Ashlyn’s hair. Her eyes were bright. 

“We’ll be okay,” she stated so firmly Ashlyn had to smile at that.

 

As it got more real — the new coach was settled, Ashlyn was given more details, Alex Morgan started negotiating to be sent down there — Ali got less okay with it all. After games, she was always incredibly nostalgic. She was moody after Ashlyn got off the phone with her agent or anyone associated with the new Orlando team. She got clingy at night, which Ashlyn wasn’t really complaining about. She wanted to be held tighter, too. Maybe then then her touch would stay with her through all those nights they’d have to spend alone. 

“What if I moved down there, too,” Ali said one day. Ashlyn was busy packing to head down to Orlando for an event with Alex, Servando, and the other boys from the MLS team. 

“What? How would that work? I mean, I’d love to have you down there with me, babe,” Ashlyn said, “but no way would the Spirit let you leave, too. It’s nice enough that they’re just letting them take me without any fancy, complicated trading.” 

“Well, not this season, of course,” Ali said, “But maybe next season I could get traded somehow.” 

Ashlyn crawled over to her from where she’d been sitting amongst piles of her clothes and gave her a quick peck on the lips. 

“Well, you know I would love that,” she said. 

Ashlyn’s 30th birthday was approaching and she new that Ali was putting together something big. She hadn’t been able to get anything out of Alex, who was obviously quite a large conspirator in the birthday plot, but that didn’t stop her from snooping around and trying to guess what surprises they had in store for her. 

“Is it a puppy?” Ashlyn asked Ali after she’d flown in from LAX. Ali rolled her eyes and turned over onto her back. 

“It’s not a puppy,” she replied. 

“I don’t understand why we can’t get one,” Ashlyn pouted. 

“Because we’re never home,” Ali said sensibly. Ashlyn knew she was being sensible, but that didn’t stop her from wanting that dog. “Who would take care of it?”

“Press has two dogs.” 

“We’ve had this conversation before. You’re not going to win.” 

And Ali was right. They’d had the “Can we get a dog?” conversation many, many times before and Ashlyn had obviously lost each and every one of those because they were still without a four-legged, wrinkly, little Frenchie puppy to call their own. A glint came into Ashlyn’s eye as she remembered one of their more recent puppy conversations. 

“Right,” she said, “We’re getting a puppy when we have a baby.” She grinned widely at Ali as she threw an arm around Ali’s waist, cuddling her close. Ali let out a breathy gasp and her eyes darkened. She hummed a sound of contentedness as Ashlyn nuzzled her, pressing kisses to the smooth column of her neck. 

“Right,” Ali agreed. Her hands found the hair as the nape of Ashlyn’s neck. “After the Olympics.” 

Ashlyn shot up, pulling away from Ali completely. “After the Olympics? Like right after the Olympics?” 

Ali raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s how the cycle goes,” Ali stated. “And I’m not getting any younger.” 

Ashlyn let out a breath. That was soon. That was very, very soon. That was basically only a year away. They could be parents in two, with any luck. She looked down at Ali, who was watching her contemplatively, looking so beautiful against the sheets of her bed. Ashlyn lowered herself on top of Ali again and pressed a hard, wanting kiss to her mouth. 

“After the Olympics,” she agreed. 

Before the big birthday weekend started — and Ali assured her that it was a Big birthday weekend she and Alex and the Harris’s had planned — Ashlyn and Ali had time just for themselves. Ali took Ashlyn out to a nice seafood place by the sea, where they had a delicious dinner before they went on a walk on the beach as the sun began to droop in the sky. 

Back to the beach again, and Ashlyn wouldn’t have it any other way. She held her shoes in one hand, Ali’s hand in the other, and they simply walked in comfortable silence. Ashlyn let herself and her mind drift as she breathed in the sea air and paid special attention to the way the sand felt between her toes. 

They stopped to sit, the both of them laying back on their elbows, shoulders brushing, not much caring about how much sand was finding its way into their clothes. They watched the sun go down, making the sky turn dark orange and pink. The water before them was oh so calm, the waves seeming almost lazy, as though there wasn’t a care out there, if only for that moment. 

This is going to be one of the good things I write about, Ashlyn decided. Lately, there had been a lot of those taking up the pages of her journal. Her present was so good and she found herself so content that the past hardly mattered. She could look to the future and see her goals and what she wanted out of life — with Ali a sure fixture by her side — but she would always return back to the moment, because it was too good not to. 

She turned to Ali, whose eyes were unfocused staring out at the horizon. She only had to lean in a little to murmur in her ear. “What are you thinking about?” She ran her fingers absentmindedly through Ali’s hair. 

“What our kids would be like,” Ali answered quietly. Ashlyn stilled, shocked. Her heart thumped erratically. Then she began to move her hand again, slowly, thoughtfully. A small smile crept across her face. 

“And what do you think?” she asked, her voice just a low hush. 

“They’re perfect,” Ali replied, and Ashlyn felt like her heart would explode. There was a pain in her chest that she welcomed with open arms. She could feel her eyes grow wet. She leaned over and pressed a firm kiss to the top of Ali’s head, rocking her gently in her arms and joining Ali’s daydreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to all of you for reading and commenting and stuff. Let me know if you liked the end!   
> (or if I should write more in the future.) 
> 
> Best,   
> onthepitch

**Author's Note:**

> So I wasn't going to post this but meh. It's a completed work so expect regular updates. Also expect this story to be very Ash-centric, about her life and struggles, but I have another Ali-centric one in the works. 
> 
> Let me know if you like it! I'd love some reviews!


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